


Once There Were Dragons

by countingpaths



Category: DreamWorks Dragons (Cartoon), How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Berserkers, Canon Compliant, Canon Continuation, Daughter of Ruffnut and Eret, Dragon Hunter OCs, Future Fic, Gen, I'm a big Gustav fan ;), Next Generation, Original Character(s), Son of Dagur and Mala, Son of Snotlout
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2020-07-30 21:53:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 26,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20104183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/countingpaths/pseuds/countingpaths
Summary: Nuffink and his older sister have grown up in a tribe where dragons are creatures of the past, found only in stories about his parents and their advisors. When rumors of a night fury in the eastern Archipelago reach Berk and Hiccup turns to old allies for council, Nuffink realizes just how little he knows about his father and his tribe's past.With his father too close-minded and desperate to see the true danger in their midst, Nuffink must leave Berk with his most trusted best friend, second cousin, and an unlikely new mentor to save his family and tribe.





	1. Legend Has It/Cliffside Playtime

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all :) This is a fanfiction I began working on immediately after seeing The Hidden World. I immediately saw so much potential in Hiccup's children, and I began to wonder what they would be like as teenagers. As a huge fan of the entire franchise, including the the TV and Netflix series, I truly believe this fic is accurate to what might happen eighteen years after The Hidden World. The only difference is that I will not address the end scene that showed the children meeting Toothless, for the sake of having a bit more room to develop what I believe are very interesting dynamics between the children, their parents, and their parents' mysterious pasts. There will also be some small references to the books (like bashyball), but nothing significant. Also, you might notice that the chapter titles are based on songs from the soundtrack, just for fun. Please read the end notes for a run down of the character's current ages, as well as info on the original characters I create for this fic. 
> 
> I planned the whole fic and wrote the first three and a half chapters in March but I'm only now beginning to upload them, so updates will likely be slow as I'm a college student.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and please comment if you have any questions :)
> 
> UPDATE: I started this fic right after seeing THW, so my description of New Berk and the Haddock home was just based on the wedding scene and my imagination. I apologize that they don't quite match up, but Homecoming hadn't been released yet!

_There were dragons when I was a boy. Oh, there were great, grim sky dragons that nested on the cliff tops like gigantic, scary birds. Little brown scuttly dragons that hunted down the mice and rats in well organized packs. Preposterously huge sea dragons that were twenty times as big as the big blue whale. _

_Some say they crawled back into the sea, leaving not a bone nor a fang for men to remember them by. Others say they were nothing but folktales to begin with. Well, I’m okay with that._

_Legend says that when the ground quakes or lava spews from the earth, it’s the dragons, letting us know they’re still here. Waiting for us to figure out how to get along. _

_Yes, the world believes the dragons are gone, if they ever existed at all. _

_But we Hooligans, we know otherwise. And we’ll guard the secret until the time comes when dragons can return in peace. In your chiefing hearts and dragon souls, my children, you will guard this secret._  
\--

His father had told that story many times when Nuffink was a child, though the chief had not spoken like that in many years. As a little boy, he’d hung onto every word and begged to hear more. What about the sea dragons? How could such large creatures hide in the depths? Had his father seen one? What about the little scuttly dragons? Might there still be some in the rafters? Zephyr said they’d eat your toes at night if they poked out of your furs. 

Nuffink could not remember his father becoming more animated at any point in his childhood than when he talked about dragons. He would answer the questions and become lost in memories as he did, as if forgetting that the dragons were gone. Yes, he’d seen sea dragons- not the serpents, which slept for thousands of years at a time, but massive bewilderbeasts, which were almost as exciting. No, scuttly dragons did not live in their rafters- Zephyr was a liar. They had gone into the sea too. The ocean was vast and deep- all dragons that ever lived could hide in its depths without detection.

His father had seen all the dragons and had a story about each kind. In their home was a massive tome that cataloged them all. His father and Fishlegs had written it when they were boys, he’d said. On every page was a beautiful, colorful portrait of some fantastic beast. Some of them were hard to believe. Zephyr had taken to drilling Fishlegs for dragon facts when she saw him just to see if they were true. They appeared to be.

Of all the dragons, Nuffink knew which one was the rarest and most sacred. His home was adorned with subtle patterns and red-tailed insignias depicting the fearsome demon. The night fury. But there was not a page for this dragon in the book, and his father would never answer questions about the night fury. Sometimes he would become cross when Nuffink brought it up. Once, Zephyr had invented a night fury game- she would be the dragon and Nuffink the viking, and he would chase her around with his wooden sword. Their father had been furious when they’d explained the game to him. Dragons were not to be hunted, and night furies were not to be chased. On this he was adamant.  
\--

It had not taken very long for Nuffink to discover the truth behind the night fury. As he grew up, he learned more about his parents’ past through stories told by vikings in the Great Hall than he did from his parents themselves.

The dragon riders, they’d been called. Before his parents had married, before his father had been chief, in the old days when Stoick the Vast ruled Berk, the group of vikings that Nuffink knew as his parents and their closest friends had tamed and ridden dragons.

All the children in the village adored the riders. They all knew the stories. Fishlegs, who was an exceptionally large but very friendly viking, had been a formidable dragon expert. He’d ridden atop a gronkle, which spewed lava from its mouth, and had sometimes transformed into a terrifying warrior during battle. Ruffnut Thorston, one of the fiercest and most unpredictable of Berk’s shieldmaidens (and now its equally unpredictable healer), had commanded one head of a zippleback dragon, which spewed flammable gas. Her twin, Tuffnut Thorston, a traveler who the children adored due to his strange gifts and pranks when he returned from long journeys, had managed the other, which ignited the gas. Snotlout Jorgenson, a short but incredibly ferocious viking who happened to be Chief Hiccup’s cousin and closest adviser, had flown into battles on the back of a monstrous nightmare. It was said- mostly by Snotlout himself, who was always eager to share stories when prompted- that Berk’s enemies still had night terrors about the dragon, which would coat itself in flames like a demon from Muspelheim while liquid fire poured from its fanged maw, consuming anything it touched in a roaring blaze. 

Nuffink’s mother, Astrid Hofferson, was the most well-respected viking in Berk. As a young shieldmaiden she had taken the tribe’s enemies down from atop a deadly nadder. This dragon had giant spines which it shot at whomever Astrid directed, and white hot fire. She did not tell many stories and never bragged. All Nuffink knew from his mother was that the nadder had been called Stormfly. The rest he had heard from his best source, Snotlout.

Finally, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third. The leader of the dragon riders, now the chief and Nuffink’s father. It was said that as a boy he’d captured and tamed a night fury, alone. In those days dragons had terrorized Old Berk. But his father had learned their language, and he conquered every one of them. There was no dragon in the world that young Hiccup couldn’t tame or defeat. He and his band of fliers had taken down dragons the size of mountains- that’s how he’d lost his leg, during their very first battle. And he’d done it all with his night fury, a phantom shadow of a dragon, with whom Hiccup had shared a soul. 

And so Nuffink learned, slowly and sadly, his father’s past. The man he knew today- a serious, closed off chief, who sometimes spent hours looking out over the sea and who always gazed so wistfully at the birds circling the sky, had not always been this way. Hiccup had fought against dragon hunters for nearly a decade before the dragons finally disappeared, chased to the ends of the Earth and forced to retreat into the sea. Sometimes Nuffink would see his father sitting in the Great Hall with the former dragon riders, laughing at something Snotlout or Tuffnut had said. Now a teenager, this was the only glimpse Nuffink had of how his father had been at his age. Astrid explained that the chief’s heart was with their tribe, but Nuffink knew that his father’s soul was far away, somewhere in the ocean’s depths.  
\----

“Hey, Nuffnut! Get up!” An obnoxious voice accompanied loud rapping on the door of the Haddock home. Upstairs, Nuffink groaned and rolled over in bed, covering his head and ears with his pillow. The yelling only escalated until Nuffink heard the front door open.

“I’m coming in!” His annoying friend hollered. Nuffink sat up and threw his pillow over the balcony of the loft.

“Don’t come up! I sleep naked!” He yelled, hopping around and pulling his clothes on.

“Gross, since when?” He heard her snicker.

“Since nobody wants to wake me up now,” Nuffink muttered as he stumbled down the stairs. He started to search around for his boots. Eret, daughter of Eret (and the former dragon rider, Ruffnut) was standing with her arms crossed by the door, her knotted blonde braid slung over a shoulder. 

“Nevermind that, guess what?” She said, watching Nuffink scramble around. He located his boots near the fireplace.

“What?” He asked, shoving his boots on. Eret had been his best friend since… always. He was used to her bossiness and didn’t mind at all- she knew how to have fun. 

Eret didn’t respond immediately. Nuffink looked up at her.

“Come on, what is it?” He asked. She was being all dramatic, which meant it was something good.

“Uncle Tuff sailed in this morning,” She blurted out with a grin. Before Nuffink could express his excitement, she continued, “You won’t believe what he said. Guess.”

“Just tell me!” Nuffink exclaimed, also grinning. She knew he had never guessed anything correctly in his whole life. 

Eret suddenly grew serious, her eyes still betraying her excitement. When she spoke, it was in a lower tone. “He said… He heard rumors in the northern markets on his way back from the south. There’ve been night fury sightings in the Archipelago.”

For a moment, Nuffink thought his friend was joking. He stared at her for a second, but she didn’t start snickering or make fun of him for being gullible. His mouth formed an ‘o’.

A real life night fury… it wasn’t possible. Dragons had been spotted by drunk sailors before. But if it was true… what would his father do? 

“Come on,” She said, grabbing his arm. “He sent for your father the minute he stepped off _the Chicken_.” That was Tuffnut’s beloved schooner, which he claimed was the fastest ship in the Archipelago.

Nuffink allowed Eret to pull him from his house, and the pair ran down the hill towards the village. A group of older vikings were gossiping near the bread stand in the market square and Eret called out to them, demanding to know where her uncle and the chief were. Mrs. Ingerman, who ran the stand, pointed up to the lookout cliff where the chief often went to think and stare out over the sea. Sure enough, Nuffink could see the forms of his father, mother, and Uncle Tuff. His father was sitting down, watching the horizon. His mother was sitting next to him, one hand on his shoulder. Tuffnut was standing on his other side, presumably recounting the story. He seemed very animated. 

Mrs. Ingerman asked if Eret and Nuff would watch Torunn, her daughter, that evening if there was a hall meeting. Nuffink thought twelve years old was a bit too old to need a babysitter, but he hastily agreed and was off with Eret toward the path that led up to the grassy cliff. 

The duo ran, half scrambling, up the rocky path but slowed as they reached the top, wanting to overhear what they could of the conversation before they were seen.

“I’m telling you Hikke” Tuffnut was saying, using his awful and embarrassing nickname for Nuffink’s father. “These aren’t your run of the mill dragon sightings. These weren’t drunk sailors. The scavenger had his whole family with him. He said they were looting the old warlords’ base on Glacier Island when they were attacked by a demon. The other men were miners from Dark Deep. They swore it was a night fury that attacked them- purple plasma blasts and all. The stories match up.”

Astrid had been listening thoughtfully, but when Tuffnut finished speaking she looked up in alarm. “Glacier Island and Dark Deep… Hiccup, those are both close to-”

“I know,” The chief said. “Dragon’s Edge is right there.”

Astrid moved her hand from Hiccup’s shoulder and gave his hand a squeeze. “What are you thinking?” She asked him.

Nuffink couldn’t see his father’s face, but he knew by his set shoulders that he was reliving old memories. His mother’s eyebrows were knitted together in concern. 

Tuffnut turned and spotted Eret and Nuffink. “Hey!” He greeted, opening his arms wide. “There’s my favorite honorary Nut!” 

Nuffink bounded over and hugged Tuffnut, who ruffled his hair affectionately. Tuffnut had always been Nuffink’s favorite of his father’s friends. 

Astrid stood up and gave her son a Look. “I suppose Eret woke you up to spy on us. Your hair is a mess.”

Nuffink wormed his way from Tuffnut’s grasp and smiled sheepishly. His mother tutted and pulled him closer so that she could fix his hair into four tiny braids. His bangs were too short to go into a braid and the sides of his head were shaved, so even his mother’s deft hands were not able to wrangle his hair into anything more presentable. 

The chief climbed slowly to his feet- or, foot. And metal foot. Nuffink had learned a long time ago that the odd design of his father’s prosthetic had a purpose. In the days of dragon riding, Hiccup had designed it specifically to fit into the special saddle his dragon had required. The night fury, too, had needed a prosthetic. His father had never changed the design.

“Tuff, I need you to sail to Berserker Island and deliver a message for me. I need the other riders here in one week. I’ll decided what to do then,” His father said. He glanced at Nuffink, who was watching with wide eyes. _What other riders?_

“One week?” Uncle Tuff asked. “I can get there and back within a week, easy, but don’t you want Mala? She’s all the way out in Caldera Cay.” 

“Heather will handle that,” Astrid said, giving Tuffnut a meaningful look.

“How will she- Oh! Ohhh.” Realization washed over Tuffnut’s face and he grinned at Hiccup, who gave a small, hopeful smile back.

“Alright, come hither, young Nuts,” Tuffnut said, addressing Eret and Nuffink. “I’ve got a lot of stories to tell.” 

Nuffink’s mother let go of his braids as Tuffnut slung one arm over his shoulders and the other over Eret’s, steering them away from the chief and chieftess. He looked back over Tuff’s arm as they were led back towards the path.

Astrid had taken Hiccup’s arm, and gave his father a peck on the cheek. “I see that old Hiccup-y spark in your eye,” She said quietly, beaming. 

“Hey!” His father objected, “Come on. I’m still me, even after all these years.”

“I know,” She responded. “But I was worried you might be forgetting that.”

Nuffink looked away then, but his parents stayed at the cliff for a moment longer, watching the calm sea. Then they followed their old friend down to the village, bracing themselves for the barrage of questions that was coming.  
\--

The group of gossiping vikings had grown to a small mob in front of the statue of Stoick the Vast when Nuffink, Tuffnut and Eret arrived. 

“Listen, listen, I don’t know anything about this! LOOK! There’s Tuffnut!” Nuffink could hear Snotlout Jorgenson’s voice coming from within the crowd. Everyone turned and looked at Tuffnut, who gave a small wave.

Zephyr broke from the crowd, pushing vikings out of the way and pulling Bjorn Jorgenson along behind her. Their cousin looked uncomfortable in his sister’s grip, and Nuffink knew she was probably cutting off circulation to his arm.

“Ow, ow, ow, Zephyr, you’re killing me,” Bjorn complained, pulling his wrist from her grasp.

“Explain,” She said shortly.

Tuffnut chuckled. “No hello?” He ruffled her reddish hair, messing up her milkmaid braids. “Don’t worry kiddo, your dad will tell everyone in the Great Hall this evening. We’ve got to handle some things first. See you later, Nuts and friends.” He saluted Eret and Nuffink and swiveled around, heading up towards the Haddock’s home. Nuffink figured his parents wanted to have everything organized before they spoke about the rumors. 

Snotlout shoved his way out of the crowd and shouted at Tuffnut to wait for him, to which the latter complied. The crowd had started to disperse, and Zephyr rounded on her brother.

“So? What’s going on? I know Tuffnut told you everything,” She said accusingly. 

Eret looked to Nuffink, who shrugged. Between the two of them, they recounted the morning and what they’d overheard. When they’d finished explaining, Zephyr looked just as shocked as Nuffink had felt. 

“Wait, you sleep naked?” Bjorn asked, a disgusted look on his face. Zephyr punched him in the chest, and Jorgenson cried out in pain.

“Ow! My pec!” He complained, rubbing the spot. Zephyr rolled her eyes, but Nuffink had been on the receiving end of her ‘light’ punches before- they hurt.

“I don’t care what Tuffnut says,” Zephyr declared, crossing her arms. “I don’t think the sightings are real.”

“Well it doesn’t matter what you think,” Eret shot back, taking offense on behalf of her uncle. “It only matters what the chief thinks. And Hiccup believes my uncle.”

Zephyr glared at the younger girl and Bjorn glanced at Nuffink. It was a glance that said, _am I supposed to step in if they fly at each other?_ Nuffink shook his head. He knew that his sister believed that her opinions were the most valuable in their little group. And to be honest, they usually were- the rest of them had pretty dumb ideas. But being the heir to Berk didn’t mean she got to boss everyone around just yet.

“Well, I’m going up there. I should know what’s going on,” Zephyr decided.

Eret shrugged and raised an eyebrow. “Nobody’s stopping you,” the younger girl said. Zephyr gave her an annoyed look before heading up after Bjorn’s father.

Bjorn sighed. “And nobody invites me. I’m a Jorgenson! I’m in this family! I’m important!” He whined. Eret rolled her eyes and Nuffink gave his cousin a half-hearted pat on the shoulder. 

“Technically you’re their second cousin, so like, who cares,” Eret grumbled. 

“Let’s do something normal,” Nuffink interrupted the bickering. “Let’s play bashyball.”

Bjorn agreed to play and Eret quickly added that she was in. Nuffink knew she liked to see Bjorn shirtless- she’d once told Nuffink that she was going to marry the Jorgenson. When he’d asked how she knew, she’d responded that he was the only guy their age on Berk. Nuffink didn’t count because he was basically a Nut. 

The trio set off to find Torunn, who usually declined to play but was always invited anyway, and tried to set aside their thoughts of Tuffnut’s news and what it meant for Berk.  
\--

That evening, the entire village crammed into the Great Hall to hear what Hiccup had to say about Tuffnut’s news. Nuffink and Eret had dropped by the Ingermans’ house to collect Torunn but ended up sneaking her to the hall and squeezing in at the back of the crowd. They inched along the wall until they had a decent view of the council table. Hiccup sat in the middle seat with Astrid on his right and Snotlout on his left. Fishlegs and Tuffnut sat to the left of Snotlout while Eret, son of Eret, and Ruffnut sat to Astrid’s right. The Great Hall was aroar with loud viking voices, and Hiccup had to smack his fist on the table multiple times. When that didn’t work, Astrid stood up and shouted at everyone to be quiet. The hall was immediately silent, and Astrid smirked at Hiccup, who rolled his eyes, as she sat down. 

“I know you’ve all heard rumor of what Tuffnut learned in the northern markets, but I’m going to clarify so that we’re all on the same page. A scavenger family claims to have seen a night fury on Glacier Island-” The hall exploded with questions, and the chief lifted his hand for silence. Astrid simultaneously gave the crowd a Look, and they quieted down. 

“Miners from Deep Dark also claimed to have been attacked by a night fury. Now according to Tuffnut, these sources were legitimate and seemed to be telling the truth. Or at least, what they believe is the truth.” Tuffnut nodded in confirmation.

“What are you going to do, chief?” A voice asked from the crowd. Nuffink stood on his toes to get a better view. It was Old Gobber, a friend of their family, who had posed the question. Nuffink’s grandmother, Valka, was standing alongside her old friend, and Bjorn’s grandfather, Spitelout, was next to her. They were the oldest people Nuffink knew, ever since ancient Gothi had died. His grandmother had the most amazing stories about living with dragons and could always beat Spitelout in arm wrestling. Old Gobber was hilarious and told all sorts of funny tales about Nuffink’s father and Stoick the Vast. 

Gobber often remarked how much like his father Nuffink was. He found that hard to believe, but maybe it was true. Maybe before he was the champion of dragons, Hiccup had been a bit like Nuffink. But that certainly wasn’t the case any longer. 

His father was leaning towards Astrid while she spoke quietly to him. When she had finished, he addressed Gobber.

“I haven’t decided our course of action yet. Tuffnut will set sail tonight for Berserker Island. He’ll be carrying a message, asking their chief and his council to return with him for a full council meeting between our tribes. By then I will have thought about our position, and I will listen to their chief’s thoughts and request his support in whichever course we take.” Hiccup spoke confidently and Nuffink saw Gobber and Valka smiling proudly. After all these years, it still seemed to warm their hearts to see Hiccup’s wisdom as chief in action. 

“Do you really think consulting the Berserkers is the best idea?” Spitelout asked. “No disrespect intended, chief, but they may not be reliable allies.” 

Other vikings began to murmur at the older man’s words. Nuffink didn’t know much about the Berserkers, and looked to Eret, who shrugged. They both looked to Torunn, who mouthed, ‘later’. 

Astrid stood up this time.

“Dagur has been our closest ally for over twenty years now and his sister, my closest friend. And do you all forget that Gustav Larson, son of Berk, has lived among the Berserkers for nearly nineteen years?” She seemed almost disappointed in the tribe. Nuffink didn’t know any of the people she was talking about, but he knew that tone of voice well. That was the ‘Nuffink, I can’t believe you’ve done this’ voice.

“Not to mention that the Defenders are intimately affiliated with the Berserkers. To not consult our allies would be foolish.” She looked at Spitelout as she said this, who smiled sheepishly. Valka gave him a ‘you asked for it’ look. 

The hall meeting was adjourned soon after, and Torunn explained who the Berserkers were as they walked her back to the Ingerman home. They were bloodthirsty warriors, and Torunn claimed to be part Berserker herself. Everyone knew the exploits of her father’s transformations during battle, when he could not differentiate between his allies and enemies, and that was due only to a drop of Berserker blood. Nuffink could not imagine what the actual Berserkers were like and expressed his uncertainty at having them come to Berk. Eret thought they sounded awesome and couldn’t wait to see them. 

After they’d dropped Torunn off, Nuffink and Eret went to the meadow to watch Tuffnut depart. The island was surrounded on all sides by cliffs that dropped straight into the ocean. To reach the docks, the vikings had built wooden pathways and lifts that led all the way down the eastern cliff face. In fact, as most of their island was covered in mountains and precipices, the small village managed to span multiple levels connected by staircases and bridges over the many rivers. It was the only home Nuffink’d ever known, so he didn’t find it strange in the least. The duo waved at Tuff until he noticed and waved back, and then they kept waving until he was too far away and it was too dark to see his ship. Then they parted ways, Eret promising to wake Nuffink up again the next morning. 

Nuffink slipped through the door quietly when he got home, not wanting to disturb his parents. He was surprised to find his mother sitting alone by the fireplace. She studied something in her hands, something that shone brilliant blue in the flickering light. It looked like some sort of… strange mask. When she heard him, Astrid turned around quickly, blocking the mask from view. 

“Oh, honey. You going to bed?” She asked. Nuffink’s eyebrows drew together- his mother was clearly hiding something.

“Yeah, uh… is dad home?” He asked awkwardly.

“Not yet, he’s with Fishlegs at the Jorgenson’s. He’ll be back soon though. Why, do you need to talk to him?”

“No, I- I’m just gonna go to bed. Goodnight mom,” Nuffink said. His mother stood up and walked over, not-so-discreetly holding the mask behind her back. With her free hand, she ruffled his bangs and kissed him on the forehead, wishing him a good night. He then clambered up the stairs, half on all fours, and got ready for bed. 

It was a long time before Nuffink could fall asleep, though. It had been such an eventful day, and the dragon sightings were making his parents act so weird. He couldn’t tell if it was a good weird or a bad weird- they seemed happy, but also sad. His mother had been hiding that strange mask, and his father… well, Nuffink wasn’t sure what to think about his father’s plan. What would he do when the Berserkers arrived? What could they do about a dragon somewhere as far east as Glacier Island? Would his father really leave Berk to hunt it down? Would he… would he tame the dragon? Would he speak the dragon language, like some stories told, or would a single touch render the beast under his control? And if he did tame it, what then? 

Nuffink felt uneasy. He knew his father’s soul had always been with the dragons- everyone knew. He had chosen his tribe all those years ago, but Nuffink quietly thought that his father would not be able to make that choice again. The dragons called too strongly. Especially the night fury. It would be dangerous for Berk’s chief to leave on a dragon hunt, but Nuffink realized that his father wouldn’t have a choice, if there was truly a chance that the night fury was in the faraway eastern Archipelago. Hiccup would have to go. His soul would pull him away or tear him apart. 

\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! This fic takes place eighteen years after The Hidden World. The character's ages are listed below (approximations based on their ages in THW+ 18 years). 
> 
> Hiccup- 39  
Astrid- 39  
Ruffnut- 38  
Tuffnut- 38  
Eret- 44  
Snotlout- 39  
Fishlegs- 38  
Zephyr- 17  
Nuffink- 15
> 
> As for the original characters I created:
> 
> Eret- 15  
Nuffink is an adventurous boy, but quiet and willing to follow the leader. He also wears what I recognized as a fang necklace that matches the Thorstons'. He needed a loud, bossy friend to have fun with, and who better for that than a Thorston? Hiccup and Tuffnut's friendship was highlighted in THW, so it was only fitting to recreate this duo. THW implied Ruffnut would end up with Fishlegs, but I don't think she would find that relationship fulfilling- he simply can't balance out her energy. Eret is the whole package for Ruffnut (as seen in 2) and has a level head that would make them a good duo. He's also a close adviser of Hiccup's. And most importantly, I could not pass up the opportunity to name his daughter Eret, daughter of Eret.
> 
> Bjorn- 17  
I am a big fan of Hiccup and Snotlout's relationship. I subscribe to the theory that they're cousins, which I incorporated in this fic. Zephyr needed a companion her age, and someone who would tolerate her bossiness and punches, so a Jorgenson cousin was the one for the job. If Nuffink and Eret are this gen's Hiccup and Tuffnut, Zephyr and Bjorn are Astrid and Snotlout. His name means "bear", which is the pelt Snotlout wears and an important symbol in the Jorgenson family. I didn't think Snotlout would find love with anyone in the gang after all that time, so Bjorn's mother was a lovely, fierce, big-boobied viking who was a perfect match for Snotlout but unfortunately passed away. He will see her again in Valhalla <3
> 
> Torunn- 12  
Fishlegs eventually settled down with the baker's lovely daughter. Torunn is younger than the other kids, and booksmart like her father, so she doesn't hang out with them as much. Nuffink and Eret often ask her questions.
> 
> That's all for now! Comment with any questions, and stay tuned for the next chapter!


	2. Should I Know You?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for continuing to read this fic! This chapter sees the Berserkers arriving to Berk, so we’re going to meet some old and new friends. See the end notes for more information on the ages and characterizations of these characters.
> 
> I finished chapter 4 last night, which is why I can post this now! I like to stay ahead on the writing, both so I can hold myself accountable and so I can edit things in previous chapters as I go. Unfortunately this chapter is a bit short, but I promise they get longer after this! Thank you so much for reading and please comment if you have any questions!

“Nuff! Nuffnut! Wake up!” An obnoxious voice called from outside the Haddock home, banging and kicking on the door. 

“You know what, whatever,” Eret, daughter of Eret, grumbled as she let herself into the home and climbed up the stairs.

“I’m coming upstairs!” she called.

Nuffink sat up and sleepily grumbled, “No, don’t”, but it was too late. Eret was already in the loft. She screamed, he screamed, they both screamed at each other, and then Nuffink tossed his pillow at her and pulled his blanket from the floor to cover himself with. 

“I can’t believe you actually sleep naked!” Eret screeched as she clambered down the stairs, covering her eyes. “I think I’m blind!”

“I warned you!” Nuffink yelled, hastily dressing himself. His face was entirely scarlet as he hopped down the stairs, pulling his boots on. Eret still had her eyes covered.

“Is it safe now?” she asked.

“Yes,” Nuffink grumbled. Eret opened her eyes and remembered why she had risked it all in the first place.

“I’ll probably never really recover, but we don’t have time for my trauma right now, guess what?” she said, dragging Nuffink towards the door by his arm.

“What?” he asked. She turned around before she opened the door and her eyes were bright with excitement. 

“The Berserkers are here.”

Nuffink pushed past her and the pair burst from the house, falling over themselves to race to the meadow where some people had gathered. They pushed their way to the edge of the cliff where Zephyr was already watching. Far below, they could see the _Chicken_ sailing up to the dock. Three figures stood at the front- one of them was Tuffnut. Out in the water, a small fleet of ships waited.

“Do you recognize them?” Nuffink asked his sister. In the week since Tuffnut’s news had hit Berk, Nuff had discovered that the Berserkers had visited once before when he was just a little kid. He didn’t remember them, but Zephyr might.

“That’s the chief, with the red hair,” she pointed to one of the men who was stepping onto the dock at the moment. Nuffink couldn’t make out any of his features but he could tell it was Old Gobber who was greeting them. Suddenly the crowd of vikings began to shift and disperse behind them, some of them heading to the Great Hall to get good seats. The chief and Nuffink’s mother had arrived to see the Berserker fleet. 

“Awake already, Nuffink? It’s not even noon yet,” his mother teased. Even Hiccup smiled. They both seemed to be in a great mood, and Zephyr and Nuffink stepped aside to allow them a better view. Hiccup’s smile transformed into a full grin when he saw the ship and its passengers below. Astrid drew her children back over.

“That man is the chief, Dagur the Deranged. The man with the helmet is Gustav Larson. He’s from Berk, but he trained under Dagur and decided to stay on Berserker Island,” she told them, pointing to the men. Nuffink and Zephyr exchanged a look- a Hooligan turned Berserker? How had they never heard about him from Snotlout?

Their mother looked at Hiccup. “Where is-” she began, but a holler from one of the few remaining spectators interrupted her question. Hiccup was staring intently at the horizon, squinting against the rising sun. 

Nuffink, Zephyr, and Eret all looked towards the sun, trying to spot what Hiccup was looking at. Slowly a form came into view. It was hard to see because the sun kept reflecting off it and hurting Nuffink’s eyes, but it was some sort of… bird?

Nuffink’s mother inhaled sharply, and when he looked she was covering her mouth with both hands, almost as if she couldn’t believe what she saw. To Nuffink’s surprise, tears seemed to be welling at the corners of her eyes. His father, though, was grinning like a madman.

Nuffink’s gaze went back to the figure and he realized with start what he was seeing. It was no bird… the approaching figure was a _dragon_. His father broke his focus and turned to Astrid, scooping her up in a hug and spinning her around. They were both laughing and Nuffink saw that his mother was really, truly crying. He looked away when they kissed, his mother throwing her arms around his father. It was gross. 

He watched the dragon, glinting in the sun like chainmail, as it approached. Its speed was amazing- it made ships look like snails. As it got closer he realized that two figures sat upon its back, though he couldn’t make them out clearly.

The dragon swooped overhead. The gathered vikings clapped and cheered, and Nuffink’s father hollered in excitement at the rider. The dragon shrieked and wheeled around, diving straight down the side of the cliff. It landed gracefully on the docks. “Come on, kids,” Astrid said. Nuffink turned and realized that his father was leading the other vikings to the Great Hall. His mother ushered them to follow. “We want to be ready to meet them in the Hall,” she added. 

Nuffink reluctantly left the cliffside and followed his mother to the hall, where she quickly braided his hair and fixed Zephyr’s before sitting them down right in front of the council table. Eret, Bjorn, and Torunn were also sitting in the front. Nuffink noticed uncomfortably that they were positioned in front of their parents as if on display. He was in front of his mother, who took her place next to the chief. Fishlegs, Ruffnut, and Eret were already seated. All of the former riders seemed excited. Ruffnut was sitting next to Astrid, cackling at something her husband had said. Fishlegs and Hiccup were speaking in low tones, apparently about the dragon based on Fishlegs’ animated arm movements and the look in the chief’s eyes. Nuffink thought that they all seemed ten years younger.

The hall had become quite crowded. The whole village seemed to be there, waiting. Valka and Spitelout were in the second row, with an empty seat for Old Gobber- at least Nuffink had a good seat this time. When everyone had settled down, the entire tribe seemed to be holding their breath. Hiccup sat up straight and set his shoulders back. The council table was on a raised platform, and Nuffink saw his mother squeeze his father’s hand under the table. He realized with a start that extra chairs had been added, one to Astrid’s right, one to Hiccup’s left, and another at the leftmost end of the table.

Suddenly the doors to the hall opened, flooding it with light. Hiccup stood up and walked around the table, stepping down to stand on the floor in front of it. Everyone else stood up as well.

The Berserker’s chief entered first. He was a very short man, Nuffink was surprised to see, but very muscular. He had short, fiery red hair that stuck in every direction and a short red beard. Three dark blue stripe tattoos crossed his left eye and right bicep, and a nasty scar marred his beard on the right side of his face. He walked with confidence, staring Hiccup down as if assessing him. Nuffink recognized that the insignia on the chief’s chest was a skrill- a dragon equally as rare and dangerous as the night fury.

Behind him was a tall woman with shoulder length black hair. Her eyes were bright green, Nuffink noticed, just like those of the Berserker chief. She was fierce looking, and the sharp plates of her armor appeared to have been constructed from the silver dragon’s scales. Nuffink realized that she must be the rider he’d seen, who’d been wearing a matching metallic mask. Now she scanned the hall as she followed the chief. Her gaze was intense, like an eagle’s.

Behind her was a tall man with wild black hair poking out from his horned helmet. A black eyepatch covered his right eye and he smirked as he appraised the room with the other. He wore his shirt half open, and it was trimmed in black fur. Nuffink was surprised to see a fang necklace around the man’s neck that matched the one he wore- it was a Nut thing, and they had made Nuffink’s for him. So that was Gustav Larson, then.

Finally, there was a young man about Zephyr’s age- maybe a few years older. He had bright green eyes and red hair like the chief, but his was combed neatly. A single dark blue stripe was tattooed over his left eye. Unlike the other Berserkers, he wore a sleek black ensemble trimmed in gold. His belt had a different skrill design than the chief’s. It looked unlike any clothing Nuffink had ever seen. Some sort of long, skinny sword hung at the young man’s waist. He, too, smirked as he looked over the hall. His gaze locked on Nuffink’s, who quickly looked away. 

The Berserker chief had stopped in front of Hiccup, and they both stared at each other for a few moments with grim expressions. Nuffink held his breath- his father had seemed so happy just minutes before!

Then the Berserker’s expression cracked into a wide grin, and Hiccup’s followed.

“Brother!” The redheaded chief exclaimed, throwing his arms around Hiccup. Nuffink’s father laughed and returned the hug awkwardly. “You have no idea how good it is to see you!” The Berserker said, releasing Berk’s chief and holding him at arm’s length.

“It’s good to see you too, brother,” Hiccup laughed. Nuffink exchanged a confused look with Zephyr. Brother?

The Berserker noticed the rest of the council. “Astrid! Snotman! The whole gang!”

“Hey, Dagur,” Nuffink’s mother said, grinning. Snotlout looked disappointed but not surprised at the mispronunciation of his name. 

Astrid stood up and walked around the table to stand with her husband and the other chief. The black-haired woman regarded her with apparent disdain.

“Astrid,” She said curtly.

“Heather,” Nuffink’s mother nodded. Then they, too, broke into grins and raised their arms, hitting their forearms together in some sort of handshake before Astrid pulled the woman into a hug. Then Heather turned to Nuffink’s father, who gave her a hug as well.

“Good to see you again, sister,” He said.

“And you, little brother,” She responded.

Nuffink was so confused. 

Gustav Larson stepped up to the group. “Um, hello? The Guster is right here?” Every one of his father’s friends, even Dagur and Heather, rolled their eyes simultaneously.

“I’d say it’s been too long, Gustav, but it really hasn’t,” Hiccup said, clapping the man on the shoulder. Gustav apparently took that as a compliment and gave Nuffink’s father a big hug. 

When that was over, Hiccup looked at the young man who had entered last. Dagur put a hand on Hiccup’s shoulder, smiling proudly.

“You remember my son, Baldur,” He said. Hiccup reached out and clasped the young man's arm in a handshake.

“It’s good to see my favorite uncle again,” Baldur said. Hiccup laughed.

“Last time I saw you, you were this tall-” Hiccup gestured with his hand. “And kept trying to kill Nuffink.” His father and Baldur seemed to find that funny, but Nuffink found it alarming.

“Oh man,” Dagur said, chuckling and apparently wiping a tear from one eye. “Just like us, aren’t they?” Hiccup grinned. Baldur turned and made eye contact with Nuffink, who was baffled by everything that was happening.

“How’s my favorite cousin?” Baldur asked, opening his arms for a hug. Nuffink didn’t know how to respond. Cousin? His father didn’t have any siblings- right? Looking between the Berserkers and his father, Nuffink realized that they did all share the same bright green eyes. But surely Hiccup or Valka would have said something about an aunt and uncle by now. 

‘Um… I don’t think we’ve met before,” Nuffink said awkwardly. Baldur lowered his arms, slightly disappointed.

“Sure we have,” He said. “Don’t you remember? I used you for knife throwing practice? And then I tried to drown you?” Nuffink’s mouth dropped open and Baldur laughed.

“We had so many good times that trip! I can’t believe you don’t remember- But I guess you were just four or five.” 

Their awkward exchange was interrupted by Hiccup clearing his throat. He had resumed his place at the table, with Dagur to his left and Astrid and Heather to his right. Tuffnut and Old Gobber had also arrived. Nuffink sat back down below where his mother was seated. Zephyr sat in front of their father and Baldur sat on her other side.

“I remember you,” Zephyr said quietly. Baldur looked confused. 

“You had a long braid,” She said. “And you got mad when-”

She was cut off by the meeting’s official commencement. At this point a few vikings left the Great Hall- many had only been there to see the Berserkers’ arrival and didn’t care about the meeting’s contents. 

Nuffink felt his sister pinch his arm and was about to complain when he glanced up and noticed her expression. Her blue eyes seemed worried, and her eyebrows were drawn together. Nuffink wondered how much of the Berserker’s childhood trip she remembered.

“Still looking good, Unhinged,” Snotlout said loudly from one end of the table. Gustav snickered and Astrid brought a hand to her face in exasperation. Heather began to stand up, a wicked expression on her face, but Fishlegs punched Bjorn’s father lightly in the arm. 

“Knock it off,” Fishlegs said. Heather gave him a small smile, which caused Fishlegs to blush, and sat back down. 

The meeting was boring for awhile after that. The tribes exchanged news, which took forever. Then Nuffink’s father asked about another tribe, the Defenders. Nuffink had never heard of them until this week. 

“Well,” Dagur began, “Mala couldn’t make it- queenly duties, you know. She doesn’t really leave Caldera Cay these days.” Hiccup and Astrid exchanged a discrete glance.

Dagur was still talking. “-so she sent Baldur as a representative of the Defenders.”

Hiccup looked appreciatively down at the red-headed young man.

“I suppose you should be up here with us then, Baldur,” The chief said. As if on cue, Gustav Larson stood and offered his seat. He moved down to the front and sat in the now-empty seat next to Zephyr. 

“Demoted to the kid’s table,” Gustav whispered good-naturedly, giving Zephyr a nudge. Nuffink grinned. He liked the man’s style.

Once Baldur had taken Gustav’s seat, the meeting got more interesting. Hiccup once again recounted Tuffnut’s story, with a few interjections by Tuffnut himself. Heather and Dagur listened intently. 

Dagur banged his fist on the table when Hiccup had finished. 

“So we’re going night fury hunting!” He exclaimed, more of a statement than a question. “You and me, brother, just like old times on Dragon Island!” 

Hiccup looked alarmed, and Nuffink felt the same. Zephyr looked at him and whispered, “Dad? Hunting night furies?”

“Er- no,” Hiccup said. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” The Berserker chief looked crestfallen.

“Hiccup’s right, brother,” Heather agreed. “It would be unwise to send a party consisting of two lone chiefs.” 

“And this isn’t normal tracking,” Astrid added. “It would take a long time- we’d need more information from the northern markets, and then we’d be sailing from island to island. It’s not as easy without… you know.” 

Heather nodded. “That’s why Windshear and I should go alone, check out the rumors, see if this thing is even real.”

Hiccup rubbed his forehead. “What then? If you find the fury- it’d take too long to send word by ship, and if you fly back you’d lose him.”

Astrid raised a hand slightly, gesturing for the chief to slow down. “It’s not Toothless-” Hiccup shot her a look, and she placed her hand apologetically on his arm. “This is probably a wild fury, if it’s even one at all,” she said. “You’d have to be there for any chance of a successful retrieval.”

The chief placed his hand over his wife’s. “Tuffnut, the sightings- both said it was black, right?” Tuffnut nodded, and Hiccup looked pointedly at Astrid.

“He was the only one, Astrid. The light furies were all white- if it’s real, it’s him.” Hiccup argued. Astrid sighed.

Nuffink watched the debate bounce back and forth, wide-eyed. He had never heard the name before but recognized it immediately by his father’s reaction. Toothless… that would be his father’s infamous night fury. It was a strange name for a dragon. Nuffink was sure such a fearsome beast would have a whole mouthful of fangs.

“I feel like you’re all forgetting something important,” Snotlout interrupted. Everyone turned and looked at him. “These rumors are probably just that- rumors! Why waste valuable resources, leaving Berk totally undefended, to chase ghosts?”

Fishlegs punched Snotlout lightly again, the latter grumbling in complaint and swatting his hand away.

“Snotlout, what if it was Hookfang?” Astrid asked. Nuffink knew that Hookfang was Snotlout’s legendary monstrous nightmare. “What if the sightings were of a red nightmare roaming around Dragon’s Edge? Wouldn’t you want to know?”

Snotlout seemed subdued. “... Yeah.” He said after a minute. “You’re right. I would want to know… but I wouldn’t leave my tribe defenseless or go on some aimless hunting trip without proper resources.”

Hiccup had been resting his head in his hands as Astrid scolded his cousin, but now he looked up. Nuffink recognized the look on his face.

“That’s it… that’s it!” The chief exclaimed. “Snotlout, Astrid, you’re geniuses!” Astrid wrinkled her nose at being compared to a Jorgenson, but Snotlout’s chest puffed out.

“I know,” He said proudly, though Hiccup hadn’t yet said why he was a genius.

“The Edge,” The chief continued. “That’s where we’ll set up a base, so we aren’t sailing aimlessly between islands. Once we’re there, Windshear will fly us out on short reconnaissance trips. And Berk won’t be defenseless- Snotlout, you’ll stay behind as acting chief.” Snotlout looked shocked. He gaped at Hiccup and pointed to himself as if to say, me?

“Dagur… I need Heather and Windshear, but I don’t want Berserker Island to be left vulnerable,” Hiccup told the other chief.

“Father, I could look after the tribe while you’re gone,” Baldur interjected. Dagur shook his head.

“No, no- I’ve always said there’s nothing like hunting night furies to make a boy into a man. I want you to have this experience, Baldur.” 

Hiccup rolled his eyes. Baldur looked disappointed, but at least he got to go. Nuffink couldn’t imagine he’d be brought along- his father just considered him a nuisance.

“But father- you obviously want to go with Uncle Hiccup,” Baldur argued. Dagur raised one hand against his son’s protesting, and closed his eyes.

He sat like that for a few moments while the others watched awkwardly. At one point Snotlout seemed like he was going to interrupt, but Gustav shook his head ‘no’ from the front row, pointed at Snotlout and made a throat cutting gesture. So they waited.

After a few minutes, Dagur opened his eyes. “We’ll both go,” He announced. “You’re right. I wouldn’t miss hunting my brother- sorry, with my brother- again for the world.”

Now it was Heather’s turn to object. “But brother, who’s going to watch Berserker Island?” Hiccup nodded in confusion.

“Who’s going to attack?” Dagur asked. “We have proficient defenses, and the western Archipelago’s been peaceful for over a decade.”

“Besides,” he grinned. “Only a madman would invade an island of Berserkers without dragons on his side.”

“You could request support from the Defenders,” Astrid suggested to Heather. “I’m sure Mala could spare her brother to stand in on Berserker Island for a few weeks.”

Heather nodded.

“So it’s decided,” Hiccup announced. “We’ll prepare to leave in three days. I’ll be taking Astrid, Heather, Dagur and Baldur. Snotlout, you’ll remain behind as acting chief. Fishlegs, Ruffnut, Eret, you’ll stay here- Berk will need you. Tuffnut, we’ll need you to deliver some messages to the Northern Markets as quickly as possible. Gustav…” Hiccup looked to the Berserker chief.

“You’ll return to Berserker Island with the fleet once we’ve left,” Dagur decided. Gustav nodded.

The meeting was adjourned, and everyone set about preparing. Hiccup, Dagur, and Baldur went to the Ingerman home to plan logistics. Tuffnut tagged along, as he’d be leaving that afternoon with their letters. 

Astrid and Heather disappeared to “catch up”. Zephyr suspected she knew what they were up to and dragged Nuffink and the others out to the meadow to see. Sure enough, the silver dragon was resting on the lookout cliff. Their mother and the Berserker woman were climbing up the path, and the dragon stood up warily when they approached. The gang sat down in the tall grass and Nuffink watched in awe as his mother reached her hand out, allowing the dragon to smell her. Then it abruptly rubbed its head against her, and Astrid laughed and hugged the dragon.

Nuffink wondered if she was crying again. He’d never seen his mother cry in his life, but the dragon seemed to strip away all her layers and reveal a younger, more vulnerable woman.

He really wanted to see the dragon up close.

Heather climbed into the creature’s saddle and pulled his mother up behind her. Zephyr grabbed Bjorn’s hand and squeezed his fingers (really, really hard) as the dragon walked to the edge of the cliff and opened its wings. 

Then it dove. It seemed like they would crash into the ground, but the dragon pulled up at the last second and flew right over their heads. Nuffink’s head whipped back to watch it go over, hurting his neck. He could hear his mother whooping and hollering and he rolled over quickly, scrambling to follow the others, who were running to the meadow’s drop off. The dragon was flying straight up, climbing so high into the clouds that it looked like a bird. They watched as it looped and dove, turtle-rolling the whole way down. It seemed like forever that it rolled, but it passed them in a heartbeat, the wind blasting them back from the edge of the cliff. The four teens ended up laying on their backs watching the dragon wheel around in the sky above Berk until the afternoon.

\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! 
> 
> I created a tumblr blog to compile my character designs as well as inspiration.[ Here are some links to character designs if you’d like to see exactly how I imagine them.](https://otwdfanfic.tumblr.com/tagged/character_design)  

> 
> Here is a run down about the ages of characters I introduced in this chapter:
> 
> Dagur- 42  
Heather- 40  
Heather’s new haircut was inspired by [ this artwork.](https://otwdfanfic.tumblr.com/post/186982344906/monovski-heather-s-outfit-for-httyd3) I imagine her having an updated version of her outfit in RTTE, but I’ve never actually designed it. If I ever do I will post a link in the endnotes!  
Gustav- 36  
Gustav has an eyepatch! He’s done a lot since we last saw him on Berserker Island in RTTE. We’ll learn more about him in the next few chapters :) 
> 
> Baldur- 18, nearly 19  
Though I can’t say I particularly like Dagur x Mala, I do think this couple ages very interestingly. They’re both leaders of powerful tribes and neither can leave their people, so I can see them growing apart. Their marriage doesn’t have any particular problems other than distance and responsibility. Baldur is their son and he’s being trained to become the next King of the Defenders, which explains the outfit and the sword. He’s still very proud of his Berserker blood and has the tattoo and skrill insignia to prove it. He’s name after Baldur from Norse mythology, which means prince and light. He is the prince of two tribes, afterall. His Berserker name is Baldur the Balanced because he inherited his mother’s level head. 
> 
> I promise the next chapter is going to be a lot more interesting! Thank you SO much for reading, and comment with any questions you have!


	3. See You Tomorrow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for continuing to read this fic! This chapter we learn some more about Baldur and everyone’s favorite Hooligan-turned-Berserker.
> 
> I know it’s been a looong time since I updated but I’m back in school and I rarely ever have time to write. This chapter was written last spring (and edited last month). I’m kind of cheating because I’m not done with chapter five yet (I like to stay two chapters ahead while writing) but I feel like I owe y’all an explanation and an update! I will try my best to get AT LEAST one chapter out every month. I know that sucks compared to once a week but I literally have exams every week until Christmas. 
> 
> Just for fun, if you start playing "Third Date" from the httyd3 soundtrack as Nuffink leaves the shipyard, the music should more-or-less match up with the story in a fun way :) 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and please comment if you have any questions!

Nuffink woke up to thud on the roof and sat up slowly in bed. Dust fell from the rafters as the roof shook, then grew still. He quickly found his clothes and boots and crept down the stairs, careful not to wake his family- it was especially hard when Zephyr’s nook was under his loft. He could hear his mother snoring softly and no sound came from behind his sister’s curtain. It was early. Really early. He opened and shut the front door very gingerly to avoid squeaking hinges. Outside the sun had just begun to lighten the dark sky. 

Nuffink jogged a little ways down the path so that he could get a clear view of the sky, unblocked by trees. Turning in a circle, he squinted upwards. It could only have been Heather’s dragon that had landed on their roof. When he didn’t spot anything, Nuffink ran out to the meadow. He was just in time to witness the silver dragon soar upwards from below the cliff. He quickly ducked into the tall grass, hoping it wouldn’t spot him. Maybe he could get close to it. 

The dragon wheeled around and landed on the lookout cliff. Nuffink realized with a start that it wasn’t alone, as he’d assumed. What was Heather doing flying so early in the morning? He watched the rider dismount, but she wasn’t wearing her silver armor or mask. It was difficult to tell in the early morning dimness, but the rider appeared to be scratching the dragon’s head. When the dragon had settled down, they slowly backed away and began to hobble down the cliff path. 

A limp- it was his father. His father had been riding the silver dragon. 

Nuffink watched from the tall grass as his father made his way back to their home and entered through the back door. He couldn’t believe what he’d witnessed- his father had snuck out to ride Windshear! Did Heather know? Did Astrid know?

When his father was inside, Nuffink darted for the village and ran all the way to the Thorston home. He scaled the adjacent tree and plucked off small pinecones to throw at Eret’s window.

“Eret! Eret!” He hollered as loudly as he dared, which wasn’t very loud. He didn’t want to wake up the other Eret. Finally the wooden shutters opened and she poked her head out. 

“Nuffink?” She mumbled. “What’re you doing up?” 

“Come outside,” He said breathlessly. “I saw something crazy.”

She nodded and retreated into her room. Nuffink climbed down carefully and met her at the side door. 

They sat on the Thorston’s back porch, a deck that was built out over the edge of one of the many rivers, while Nuffink recounted what he’d seen. Eret didn’t seem surprised.

“The guy’s been waiting what, eighteen years, to see another dragon? Course he’d wanna ride it,” She said, as if it wasn’t strange at all. “Besides, we saw your mom riding it last night.”

"That wasn't really the point," Nuffink grumbled. It wasn’t that his father had ridden the dragon, it was that he’d snuck out to ride it alone instead of asking Heather. Nuffink hadn’t known his father was a sneak.

“Maybe he didn’t want anyone to see him… you know,” Eret suggested.

“What?” Nuffink asked, baffled.

“You know, like… get emotional and stuff. It was probably really heavy,” She said sincerely.

Nuffink brought his knees up and wrapped his arms around them, settling his chin on top. He wished he could’ve seen his father. How he’d approached the dragon, the look on his face when it had taken to the sky. He wondered if his father’s dragon soul would be soothed by the secret flight or if it would only become more restless.

He didn’t respond to Eret, and they sat like that until the sun had fully risen and the village had woken up. Then Ruffnut called them inside for some yaknog, and they dutifully complied.  
\--

Tuffnut had set out for the northern markets the evening before, so the village was in full swing preparing for the chief’s departure. Nuffink and Eret found Bjorn carrying some heavy trunks of maps from the Ingerman home to the Great Hall for the chiefs to look at. Eret asked him why and the Jorgenson shrugged, setting down the load for a break.

“Just, you know, because I’m a helpful person,” he said, flexing slightly. Eret nudged Nuffink and pointed to where Heather was working in the blacksmithing shop. She had stopped to watch them with a bemused expression, and Bjorn flexed extra hard.

“Well, I’d best get back to lifting heavy objects,” he sighed, picking up the trunks.

“Yeah, sure,” Nuffink agreed, and Eret snickered. They followed their older friend up to the hall, and Nuffink pulled open one of the large doors for him. Inside, Hiccup and Dagur were pouring over stacks of books and scrolls. Dagur pointed at something and Hiccup crossed it out with charcoal. Zephyr and Baldur sat next to their fathers, each reading a scroll. Nuffink wondered what kind of stuff were they looking at. Information about night furies, or the locations of dragon hunters?

He and Eret walked with Bjorn to the table, where he dropped the chests unceremoniously. 

“Those were actually really heavy, I just made it look easy,” he told Nuffink. Baldur rolled up the scroll he was looking at. 

“Just the cousin I wanted to see,” he announced, grinning at Nuff from across the table. Zephyr rolled her eyes.

“Um, hey, Baldur,” Nuffink replied, exchanging a glance with Eret. Hiccup and Dagur looked up from their work. 

“Please, call me cuz,” the older boy insisted.

“Okay… cuz,” Nuffink said awkwardly. This seemed to satisfy Baldur.

“So I was thinking… I’m pretty busy right now, but we need to catch up before I leave- would you meet me at the lookout cliff tonight?” 

“You know what, I’ve kind of got plans tonight…” Nuffink mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Oh yeah,” Eret added, catching on in a flash. “He promised to help me sort my… horn collection.”

“A horn collection? Sounds cool.” Baldur unrolled his scroll and glanced back at it. “Let me know if your plans change… I was going to introduce you to our aunt’s razorwhip.”

Nuffink’s eyes widened and he looked at Eret.

“On second thought, maybe Bjorn can help me with the horns- some of them are pretty heavy,” she said, nudging Nuff. Bjorn looked confused.

Baldur looked up from the scroll, grinning. “That’s great- I’ll see you at the lookout cliff, then?”

Nuffink nodded, gulping. He couldn’t pass up a chance to see the dragon up close. It might be the only dragon he ever saw.

Zephyr stood up suddenly. “I’m gonna get some lunch,” She told their father. “I’ll pick up something for you guys too.” Dagur nodded appreciatively and Zephyr walked around the table, gesturing for Nuffink to follow her outside. Bjorn and Eret tagged along.

Once they were outside, Zephyr lead them across the plaza to the edge of the deck, which overlooked much of the village.

“What’s up?” Nuffink asked, leaning on the wooden railing. He hadn’t believed her lunch story for a second- though now she would have to deliver on her promise to the chiefs.

“Well, first- Dad asked me to come with them,” Zephyr said proudly.

Bjorn gaped. “Wait, you’re going on the hunting trip?” Zephyr nodded. 

“That’s so unfair,” He complained, slouching against the railing with Nuffink. She grinned. 

“But there’s another thing,” she added, her expression becoming a bit uncertain. “I’ve got to tell you about Baldur. He’s… not right.”

Eret snorted. “Yeah, I could’ve told him that.”

Zephyr glared at the other girl. “You don’t know half of it- when we were little and Dagur brought him to visit, he actually tried to kill Nuffink.” 

Nuffink was surprised. Their father had joked about that, but his sister actually looked worried. Usually she’d have some quip about the occupational hazards of being a viking, or something.

“We took you to the waterfall and I went into the woods to throw my knife. When I got back, he was wrestling you underwater... I had to threaten him with the knife before he’d let you up.” Zephyr looked angry now, recounting the incident. Bjorn looked a little green.

“I said I was telling dad, and he said he’d do something awful if I did. Like toss you off the lookout cliff, or cut off mom’s hair. I… I was really scared,” she admitted.

“Gods, I hate that guy,” Bjorn exclaimed. They all looked at him in surprise. 

“What’s his deal? Acting like mister perfect, getting invited on the hunting trip, making Nuffink call him cousin- I’m your actual cousin!”

“Second cousin,” Eret corrected.

“Whatever! I’m more their cousin than that jerk!” 

Nuffink looked at his sister, raising an eyebrow. “You seriously think Baldur’s gonna try to push me off a cliff or something tonight?” 

Zephyr shrugged. “I’m just saying to be careful. I don’t trust him.” 

Zephyr was acting ridiculous, Nuffink thought. All that stuff had been when they were kids- Baldur had probably been going through a spazzy phase. He was a little weird, but so was his dad. It was just a Berserker thing.

Bjorn offered to help Zephyr chase down some lunch for the chiefs. Not literally chase down lunch- they were probably just going to ask Valka to make sandwiches. Nuffink and Eret wandered off towards the shipyard.

The shipyard wasn’t down by the docks at the bottom of the cliffs- it was a meadow below the village. It had been easier to build their ships up there and lower them down to the water than move all the lumber and supplies down to the docks everytime a new ship was built. So the shipyard consisted of a large storage building, two windmills to determine the direction and strength of the winds, and multiple lift systems designed specifically for raising and lowering ships from the water. It was pretty impressive, in Nuffink’s opinion, and one of he and Eret’s favorite hangouts. Gobber had given them his old, beat up boat that was more scrap than vessel, and they spent a lot of time trying to patch it up. 

They ran down the stairs from the village to the shipyard, where more vikings were working than usual. They were clocking overtime to build a ship for the trip.

“That’s it, see here- they’re going to need defense if things get prickly with the fury or if they run into pirates,” A loud voice came from the other side of the ship’s frame. “I’ll be keeping the speed though- this baby needs to haul it across the Archipelago.”

Nuffink and Eret walked around the site carefully, ducking as a viking carrying long planks turned around. “Sorry ‘bout that, kiddos,” the viking apologized.

“How are we supposed to build a ship large enough to accomodate weapons and supplies, small enough to have that kind of speed?” 

As they rounded the ship, Nuffink was surprised to find Gustav Larson. He was standing with another man at a crude wooden table that appeared to be covered with designs and measurements for the ship.

“I’ll figure it out,” Gustav said. The viking grumbled and went back to measuring planks, and Gustav noticed their company.

“Well, well, well- Nuffink, was it? And friend-nut,” he said, smiling warmly at them. 

“Actually, it’s Eret,” Eret corrected. Gustav raised an eyebrow in surprise.

“Really? Huh. Does Agnut know?” Eret looked confused and he shook his head. “Nevermind- have you come to watch the ol’ Güster work wonders?”

“You’re a boat builder?” Nuffink blurted out.

“Ship designer,” Gustav corrected. “Usually other people do the building part- though I’ll roll up my sleeves for a personal project like this one.” He reached up and patted the ship’s ribcage-like frame. “This is the most challenging ship I’ve ever worked on- she’ll be nearly as fast as your uncle’s schooner but almost twice as large.”

Nuffink went to the table and glanced over the blueprints, held down at the corners by rocks. “You designed the _Chicken_?” He asked.

“Duh.” Gustav grumbled. “Do your parents seriously not mention me at _all_?” Nuffink glanced at Eret and they both shook their heads.

Gustav rolled his eye. “Oh well- that’s why I moved to Berserker Island, anyway. Your folks are great and all, but Hiccup’s never understood my brand of genius. I needed to do things my way, not his.” 

Nuffink was shocked that Gustav would criticize the chief so openly and that he seemed to have known Hiccup so personally. But not understanding someone who didn’t think like him- that sounded like his father. 

“Hey, can we help? Nuffink has a boat, and we work on it all the time,” Eret suggested.

“A boat? That little fishing boat in the shop is yours?” Gustav asked. Nuffink nodded, and Gustav whistled. “That thing’s got to be a hundred years old. You two have patched it up pretty good. I’d be honored to have some handy vikings like yourselves working on my ship.”

Nuffink blushed, and both he and Eret grinned proudly. Gustav invited them to look over the design variations, and they both picked their favorites, then argued back and forth about which was better. The older man considered their counterpoints and quickly sketched a couple more designs that addressed their issues. When they enthusiastically agreed, he called for the working vikings to alter the design of the frame, much to their exasperation.

As annoyed as the rest of the Hooligans were with Gustav’s youthful energy and flighty whims, Nuffink and Eret were enthralled. Never before had they met an adult who seemed to understand them so well, who wasn’t closed off and secretive and exclusionary. Even Tuffnut and Snotlout, their favorite vikings, treated them like children.

Soon the daylight began to fade. It was when Nuffink began straining to read the measurements written on the oak planks that he remembered his promise to Baldur. 

“You’ll come back tomorrow, right?” Was Gustav’s only question when Nuffink explained why he was leaving. Nuffink assured him that he would, then waved to Eret and ran off towards the village.

It was dark by the time he reached the lookout point. He walked slowly as he reached the top, afraid to spook the dragon if Baldur wasn’t there. Luckily, the older boy was sitting in the grass with the dragon’s head in his lap and a small lamp nearby. His back was turned to Nuffink.

Nuffink cleared his throat awkwardly. “Sorry I’m late. I was working at the shipyard.”

The dragon lifted its head quickly and Baldur turned in surprise. “Oh! No worries-” 

He was interrupted by the dragon’s shrieking roar. It stood up and raised its tail in defense towards Nuffink. 

Baldur shot to his feet. “Woah! Woah, girl!” He exclaimed, placing one hand on the side of its face and the other on the front of its horned nose. “It’s okay, he’s a friend!”

Nuffink started to back away, but Baldur turned and gestured with one hand for him to approach. “No, don’t leave- she’s just not used to strangers.” 

Nuffink eyed him skeptically. “I’m not sure this is a good idea.” The dragon was huge in person and seemed spooked. The fangs and sharp spines shone especially well in the flickering lamplight.

“Please, cousin- trust me,” Baldur said. He kept one hand on the side of the dragon’s head but held out the other to Nuffink.

Nuffink reluctantly approached the dragon, and Baldur took his hand, spreading it flat and guiding it towards the dragon’s nose. Nuffink squeezed his eyes shut, fully expecting to lose a limb within the next few moments. 

When his palm made contact with the dragon’s nose, he was surprised to feel that it was cold and perfectly smooth. He opened his eyes and the dragon breathed in heavily. 

Baldur grinned and released Nuffink’s hand. “See? Now she knows you.”

Nuffink spread his fingers and gingerly moved his hand to the side of the dragons face to rub under its chin like Baldur had done. “She?”

“Yeah,” Baldur snorted. “She’s a girl, and her name’s Windshear.” He scratched a certain spot under her chin and Windshear grumbled happily.

Nuffink smiled, relief that he wasn’t being eaten washing through him. It was followed closely by the elation of touching a real life dragon. “Windshear… nice to meet you.” 

“She’s like family to me- look, green eyes.” Sure enough, the dragon’s eyes were entirely a bright green like the Berserker’s. “You’ve got them too,” Baldur added.

Nuffink’s eyes widened in surprise, and he patted Windshear awkwardly. He did have bright green eyes, just like Baldur and the other Berserkers. But he’d gotten them from his father, not any relation to Baldur’s family.

“Want to take her for a spin?” Baldur asked suddenly. 

Nuffink stepped away from Windshear and gaped at him. “Are we allowed to?”

Baldur laughed. “Sure, I know how to fly. Come on, Windshear.” The dragon obediently lowered her body and Baldur hoisted himself into the saddle. He held out his hand and Nuffink took it, still hesitant but less so now that he trusted both Baldur and the dragon. Baldur pulled him up and Nuffink clumsily swung his leg over the dragon’s shoulders. The seat was made to comfortably fit two people, Nuffink was glad to discover.

The dragon lurched forward and Nuffink grabbed Baldur’s waist, causing the older boy to laugh. “Yeah, you’re gonna want to hold on,” He said. They were at the edge of the lookout cliff now, and the drop seemed a lot further than usual from atop the dragon.

Windshear spread her wings and the updraft caught them, lifting them shakily into the air, hovering only a few meters above the ground. Nuffink’s stomach churned as he suddenly realized what he’d gotten himself into.

“Wait-”

In one swift movement, the dragon tucked in her wings and dove. Nuffink’s stomach leapt to his throat and the pressure of the fall forced all air from his lungs. He couldn’t breathe or scream as he grappled to hold onto Baldur, who had leaned forward into the fall. It was over as soon as it started and the dragon pulled up before they hit the ground, racing low across the meadow. Nuffink managed to wrap his arms around Baldur’s waist and shut his eyes before she shot upwards and began beating her wings, lifting them straight into the sky. He wasn’t sure how the Berserker wasn’t slipping right off Windshear’s back, even with the saddle handles, but he kept his eyes screwed shut- if Baldur had said anything, he wouldn’t have heard over the strong winds buffeting their ears. 

After a minute, their ascent slowed and the winds died away. Windshear leveled out into a smooth glide.

Nuffink opened his eyes slowly. 

Below them was darkness. They had flown above the cloud cover, and above them the night was awash with stars. Nuffink exhaled slowly, admiring the way Windshear’s silver scales shone in the starlight. He felt as if they were underwater, looking up at light shining through the surface. 

“You can see so many beautiful things from the back of a dragon,” Baldur said reverently. “Views no other vikings could even dream of.”

“No wonder my parents miss it so much,” Nuffink said, unwrapping his arms from around Baldur. “You’re so lucky… having the last dragon in the Archipelago.” He patted Windshear’s side appreciatively.

“We used to have another dragon, too,” Baldur said. “He was my best friend growing up.”

Nuffink sat back, trying to see Baldur’s face. “Are you kidding me?”

Baldur twisted around, looking confused. When he realized the other boy was surprised, not angry, he smiled. “Nope. Shattermaster. He couldn’t fly anymore, so he couldn’t leave when the other dragons disappeared. He died a long time ago, though.” 

“What kind of-” Nuffink started to say, but Baldur turned back around. 

“Hold on tight,” he warned, and Nuffink now knew from experience to wrap his arms around the older boy, personal space be damned.

Baldur leaned forward, and Nuffink realized with surprise that it was only that slight movement that directed Windshear into a dive. They passed back through the clouds, which coated the dragon and her riders in a fine mist. Then the dragon pulled out of her dive and began to lazily follow the perimeter of the island. It looked tiny from above, with little lights showing through the trees. The light in the shipyard was still lit, and Nuffink wondered if Gustav was still working.

“You should see Berserker Island from this angle,” Baldur said. “It’s beautiful- less defensible than yours, though. I don’t know why Uncle Hiccup’s never taken you for a visit.”

Nuffink had been wondering the same thing. If these Berserkers were so close with his parents, why had he never heard anything about them? He said as much to Baldur, who shrugged.

“I wouldn’t have been there anyway. I live with my mother, in Caldera Cay. Nobody wants to vacation on an active volcano.”

Nuffink laughed, even though he’d never heard of that place before. “You know, you’re okay,” He said. “I don’t know what Zephyr was worried about.”

“What?” Baldur turned his head, looking back at Nuffink from the corner of his tattooed eye.

“I don’t even know,” Nuffink grinned. “She thought you’d push me off the lookout cliff or something.”

“Oh.” Baldur said quietly. “That’s as much as I’d expected- she’s never understood us.”

“Er… us?” Nuffink asked doubtfully. 

Baldur nodded. “You know, the bond we share as cousins. She’s not really like us, is she?”

Nuffink didn’t know what Baldur was talking about at all, but it felt weird. “I'm not sure I really... get it...”

“You know… Our dads are best friends. Brothers. You and me, we’re like them. It’d be different if she were more like your dad too, but she’s not.”

Nuffink gaped. “I’m not anything like my dad. Zephyr’s the one who’s going to be chief!”

“Okay!” Baldur interrupted. “Forget I said that. What I mean is, I wish you were coming with us instead of her. You deserve to hunt the night fury too.” 

Neither of them said anything as Windshear completed her circle of the island, then wheeled down to the lookout peak and landed gracefully. Baldur dismounted skillfully and helped Nuffink down. Then the older boy removed the saddle and said goodnight to the dragon. They walked the path back to the Haddock’s house quietly, Nuffink carrying the lantern. Finally, Baldur stopped. “I have to meet the chiefs and your sister at the hall. You could come- they wouldn’t mind.”

“No, I’m… I’m kind of worn out,” Nuffink said. As if on cue, he yawned. 

Baldur nodded. “You’re a natural-born rider, you know.”

Nuffink looked at the older boy incredulously. “You’re lying.”

“No, no,” Baldur insisted, grinning. “It’s in your blood. But… let’s keep that little flight to ourselves.”

“What? You said we were allowed to!”

“I said I knew how to fly,” Baldur corrected. “Not that our aunt approves of anyone riding Windshear without her.”

Nuffink punched Baldur in the arm, and the Berserker laughed and turned towards the village, waving goodbye. The whole situation reminded Nuffink of what he’d seen that morning- his father sneaking back from riding Windshear alone.

He understood that a bit better now, but it still made him feel strange. Or maybe his stomach was still reeling from their flight.

Nuffink waved back at Baldur and then quickly ducked into his house. It was dark inside, and as he entered the lantern in his hand illuminated the form of someone standing, arms crossed.

Nuffink screamed.

“Nuffink Haddock!” The figure exclaimed, stepping fully into the lantern light.

Aaaand it was his mom. Great. 

“Oh- uh, hi mom,” he squeaked. Astrid took the lantern from him and used it to light the candles near the fireplace. When she was done, she sat the lantern down and turned back to Nuffink, crossing her arms. “Start talking.”

“Were you sitting here in the dark, waiting to catch me?” Nuffink asked.

“Maybe,” his mother answered. “Catch you doing what?”

“Oh- er… Yeah, you got me… I missed curfew,” he shrugged, voice cracking. “Uh… Please don’t ground me.”

Astrid rolled her eyes. “Nuffink, come on, you think I don’t know that tone of voice?” As soon as she’d said it, her eyes widened. “You snuck off on Windshear!”

“I didn’t know we weren’t allowed to!” Nuffink defended himself. “He said it was okay.”

“Baldur?” Astrid growled. Nuffink nodded hesitantly. His mother could be really, really scary.

“Son of a half-troll,” she cursed. “What were you thinking? Oh, I am going to kill Dagur.” His mother started to brush past him, but Nuffink grabbed her arm.

“Wait! It wasn’t dangerous- Baldur knows how to fly! It was actually really amazing. She was amazing.” He didn’t want to break his promise. Well, he hadn’t technically promised anything. But Nuffink knew Baldur had trusted him anyway.

Astrid’s expression softened. “I know. Trust me, Nuffy, I know… But you should’ve never gone out there without Heather, or me or your father.”

“But I was with Baldur…” He protested. Astrid rolled her eyes.

“Baldur, who’s never had his own dragon or formal flight training. Flying is dangerous. How do you think your father lost his leg?”

Nuffink’s eyes widened. “I thought… in your first battle…”

“Yes, in our first battle,” Astrid sighed. “Hiccup fell off of his dragon. Toothless bit off your father’s leg trying to save him. And he saved most of him, thank the gods.”

Nuffink sat on the stairs, shocked. That wasn’t how anyone had told it. Snotlout and Tuffnut… they’d never told him how his father’s leg had been lost during the battle. Only that it had happened.

“Please don’t tell Dagur,” he said weakly. Astrid sat down next to him, scooting him over to make room for herself. 

“It would really upset him that his son put you in danger like that,” she said, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. “Baldur’s supposed to look out for you. You’re cousins.” She smiled softly.

Nuffink looked at his mother in alarm. “But we’re not,” he argued, shrugging off her arm. “I don’t understand any of this. The Berserkers aren’t related to us! Why do they act like dad is their brother?”

Astrid sighed. “Your father and Dagur- they’ve been through a lot together. Dagur loves your father like a brother, and he would do anything for him or Heather. Your father returns that sentiment. I know the Berserkers… well, Dagur and Baldur, can be a bit strange. But Dagur would do anything for you and your sister, too. We’re his family… and trust me, Dagur is much better as family than he is as an enemy.” She laughed softly. “Try to understand how your father feels. He loves them. And I love them, too- Heather is my best friend.”

Nuffink looked down at his boots. “I don’t want Baldur to get in trouble- or hate me,” he muttered.

Astrid brushed his bangs away from his face and peered at him carefully. He continued to stare at his boots.

“Alright,” she sighed. “I won’t tell Dagur. You get away with your little escapade. But Nuffink Haddock, if I catch you on that dragon again without an actual rider, I will personally fly you out past the docks and drop you.”

Nuffink looked at his mother in fear, and she kissed his forehead. “Now get to bed, I’m going to remind Hiccup and Zephyr that they have curfews too.” She ruffled his hair and Nuffink got up, slowly climbing the stairs while watching his mother leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I don’t have any new characters to talk about in this chapter (eventually there will be some more!). However, I will explain a little bit about Windshear and Shattermaster. We learned about the Wingmaidens and their bond with razorwhips in RTTE. I believe that due to this bond and the inability for razorwhip babies to survive past infancy without their help, razorwhips may be the only dragons left in the archipelago. Of course, Hiccup and the riders would never betray the Wingmaidens, so they have never once spoken of the island. Windshear is a loner and was raised from infancy by Heather, so she resisted the migration into the sea.  
We saw in season 6 of RTTE that though Shattermaster was still alive on Berserker Island, Dagur primarily used Sleuther. Therefore, I believe that Shattermaster was no longer able to fly and thus wouldn’t be able to leave Berserker Island. This is the case in this fanfic, though he passed away when Baldur was a young teen.
> 
> I like to share information like this in the end notes because this isn’t really something Nuffink would ever know or be told. Hopefully y’all find this interesting :) Comment with any questions and stay tuned for the next chapter!


	4. Exodus!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for continuing to read this fic! I'm sorry it's been so long since I updated, but school kicks my butt. I've been home for quarantine though and working on OTWD every night! I finished chapter 5 last night, so I finally get to post this chapter. There will probably continue to be weird months-long gaps between chapters occasionally, just because of school. But know that I have all of OTWD outlined in detail and I won't ever abandon it! This fic is my baby. 
> 
> Sorry if there's any weird sentences or mistakes here. I'm just so excited to get it posted and work on chapter 6.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and please comment if you have any questions!

True to his promise, Nuffink spent the whole next day at the shipyard with Gustav and Eret. It was hard work, but Gustav told them funny stories about his travels and living with the Berserkers. Eret wanted to know all about his apprenticeship under Dagur, and Nuffink started to worry she might try to move to Berserker Island herself.

Around dinnertime, Gustav ordered the working vikings to go home to eat and rest, then return to work through the night. Nuffink wasn’t surprised- the ship needed to be done by the next afternoon. Judging by the ship’s progress that morning, Gustav had worked on it by himself all night. That hadn’t made a dent in his friendly attitude, though.

Eret and Nuffink had their dinner at the Great Hall and grabbed some drumsticks for Gustav. When they got back to the shipyard, they were surprised to find both chiefs there, assessing the ship. The three men were standing around the design table. Well, Gustav was leaning on it.

“Are you sure it’s going to be done in time?” Hiccup was asking as the teens approached. “If we have to postpone our departure, I need to know.”

“Chillax, Hiccup,” Gustav responded. He sounded annoyed for once. “Have I ever let you down?”

Both chiefs raised their eyebrows and Gustav raised his hands. “Don’t answer that. I don’t need your Hiccup-y disapproval of my youth. The point is, I’m the best ship builder in the Archipelago. You can count on me.”

He noticed Nuffink and Eret, who were standing awkwardly to the side. “Hey, guys- you brought me dinner?” He grinned, pleasantly surprised.

“It was Nuff’s idea,” Eret said. “You haven’t eaten all day.” She passed the platter to Gustav, who thanked her before enthusiastically tearing into a chicken leg.

“Nuffink?” Hiccup asked. “I didn’t know Gustav was letting you help.”

“Oh, uh- yeah. We’ve just been helping out around the yard,” Nuffink mumbled. 

“Helping out?” Gustav wiped his mouth on his bracer. “These two are my best craftsmen- they helped me finalize the design. I think you’re gonna like their ideas.” He sat the platter down and pointed at the blueprints where Nuffink had done his own sketches.

Hiccup’s eyebrows shot up, and he glanced over the drawings. Dagur laughed. “A chip off the old block, eh, brother? With all your cute designs and inventions.” He clapped Nuffink on the shoulder, causing him to stumble.

“Yeah…” Hiccup said thoughtfully. “Nuffink, these are pretty interesting.” The boy blushed proudly. It wasn’t often he was the subject of his dad’s praise- usually he felt invisible. 

Hiccup looked back at Gustav, crossing his arms. “And you didn’t think to consult me before allowing my son- and Ruffnut’s daughter- to help you build a ship? Especially one that’s supposed to deliver my family safely across the Archipelago?”

Nuffink’s heart sank. He’d known this was going to happen if his dad found out. He didn’t trust them at all.

“Hey now,” Gustav protested. “I wouldn’t have let them work if they weren’t up to it.” 

“They’re kids,” Hiccup said sternly.

Gustav pushed away from the table. “I don’t tell you how to do dragons. You don’t tell me how to do ships.”

Hiccup was already turning away from them. “My son won’t be helping you any longer. Come on, Nuffink.”

Nuffink glanced helplessly at Gustav. The older man was staring daggers through the chief’s back. Eret shrugged and they both followed the chief. Dagur stayed behind and Nuffink heard Gustav muttering to him fiercely. 

“Go home, Eret,” Hiccup ordered when they’d reach the village. She gave Nuffink a sorry look and trudged towards her house. Neither Nuffink nor his father said anything on the walk up to their home. 

Hiccup paused when he reached their steps. Carved black dragons crisscrossed the threshold, abstract aside from smears of red paint on their tails. Hiccup rested his hand on the red patch. “Nuffink…” He began, talking to the door. His hand slipped away from the doorframe and he turned around, swinging his arm slightly. It was a habit that often gave away Hiccup’s nervousness when he spoke about difficult subjects in the Great Hall. “I didn’t know you were so… inventive. You always took after Astrid, fighting and running around with Eret, I just never thought-” He shook his head. “I assumed your interests were… more like your mom’s.” 

Nuffink’s eyebrows lifted towards his hairline. He’d expected a scolding, not… whatever this was. 

Hiccup continued before Nuffink could think of a response. “I suppose I could get you a job at the smithy- you’d love working with Gobber, he’ll let you build anything you-”

“I don’t want to work with Old Gobber!” Nuffink blurted out. Hiccup’s eyebrows knitted together. “You- what?”

“I don’t want to work at the blacksmith’s.. I want to work at the shipyard with Gustav.” Nuffink looked down as he said it, unable to look his father in the eyes.

Hiccup pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling quickly. “Gustav is reckless and immature. Twenty years on Berserker Island and he still acts like a teenager!” He scoffed. “He shouldn’t have let you help-” He gestured towards the shipyard, “on a ship that’s supposed to keep our family safe!”

Nuffink’s eyes snapped up to meet his father’s. “He’s the best ship builder in the Archipelago and he _wanted_ my help!” He shot back, clenching his fists. “And maybe he left because you _treat_ him like a teenager.”

Hiccup blinked in surprise, but his expression became stormy. “Oh, and he told you a sob story, of course.”

Nuffink didn’t wait to hear the rest. He pushed past his father and opened the door, slamming it behind him. He stood with his back against it for a moment, waiting to see if Hiccup would follow him inside. He didn’t. 

_Stupid._ Nuffink wiped his damp eyes angrily with his bracer. It had been totally stupid to think his father would be proud of him for helping or admire his skill. He should’ve known better than to get his hopes up.

When he was sure Hiccup had left for the village, Nuffink left through the back door and jogged up the trail to the lookout cliff. Windshear lifted her head when he rounded the path, the spines on her tail lifting in warning. He stopped short.

“Hey there, Windshear… it’s me, Nuffink,” Nuffink said uncertainly, holding his hands up in front of him. Maybe coming up here alone hadn’t been the best idea. But the razorwhip laid her head back down and Nuffink rubbed the back of his neck as he walked closer to the cliff, feeling silly. He settled down on the ground near Windshear and looked over the village. The sky was changing from dusty blue to red as the sun sank behind the mountains and into the western ocean. Lantern lights bobbed around the shipyard where Gustav and the other vikings were still working. A few lights shone through the dense trees in the village, with one building clearly illuminated- the smithy, where Old Gobber would be working late to make whatever contraptions Hiccup and Dagur had requested. Where Hiccup would prefer Nuffink to be working.

Nuffink shivered and pulled his knees to his chest. The night air became cold quickly on their island that touched the clouds, and he’d left his fur cloak at home while he worked at the shipyard.

Windshear snorted softly. Nuffink looked at her, his eyebrows lifting. She was watching him through slitted green eyes. 

“I bet you’re not cold, even up here,” He murmured. He reached out carefully and, scooting on his butt, moved closer to the dragon until he could rest a hand on her horned nose. She closed her eyes while he petted her nose softly.

“I thought I’d find you up here,” his mother’s voice came from behind him. Nuffink flinched and whirled around, pulling his hand away from Windshear. The dragon didn’t even open an eye.

“I wasn’t gonna get on, I swear--” he began, but Astrid chuckled. “I can see that.” She walked over and plopped down next to Nuffink, on his other side from Windshear. Nuffink returned to watching the shipyard lights.

“Your father told me about what happened,” Astrid said. She nudged her son slightly with her shoulder and began tugging his unraveling his braids back into place. “He only wants what’s best for you, you know.”

Nuffink resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “No, he doesn’t,” he grumbled, pushing her hands away. “He only wants what’s best for him.”

Astrid raised an eyebrow critically. “What makes you say that?”

“He thinks I’m gonna mess up his precious dragon hunting ship!” Nuffink sputtered. “He cares more about the dragons than me, he always has!”

His mother’s eyes widened. “Nuffink- you can’t know- your father loves you more than anything in the world. He gave up everything for you. For us.” She reached across and tilted his chin towards her, looking him in the eyes. “He protects his family. Sometimes it’s difficult to protect everyone you love- sometimes it hurts. But…”

Nuffink opened his mouth to speak but she silenced him with a finger on his lips. “He has to try. You’ll be safe here. And as long as Gustav does his job, we’ll be safe too. That’s how he’s going to protect us all- his whole family. Even the dragons.”

His mother lowered her hand and tilted her head, wanting confirmation. Nuffink nodded slightly and broke eye contact with his mother’s fierce gaze. He passed a hand over Windshear’s nose. “Toothless?” He asked quietly.

Astrid watched her son pet the dragon, a fistful of emotion pressing on her heart. “Yes, Toothless… And Stormfly. A rogue dragon puts them all at risk.”

Nuffink glanced at his mother. She smiled at him sadly. “Your father wasn’t the only one who said goodbye to his best friend, you know.” For a moment she looked like she was going to say more, but she got up instead, one of her long braids falling over her shoulder.

“It’s late. You should get to bed, we have a big day tomorrow.” She said, brushing the braid back. 

Nuffink scrunched his nose. “I’m gonna sit up here for a few more minutes,” he said. Astrid nodded and leaned down to kiss his forehead, then left him her lantern and made her way carefully down the trail. Usually she’d bug Nuffink about curfew, but he figured she thought he was safe enough with a dragon. 

After another ten minutes of petting Windshear and watching the shipyard, where only a few lights remained, Nuffink wished the dragon a good night and took his mother’s lantern to guide him safely home.  
\--

Voices pulled Nuffink from his sleep. Laying in bed with his eyes squeezed shut, he could hear his parents speaking. Then Dagur’s voice joined theirs. Nuffink rubbed his face groggily and sat up, realizing he must’ve slept in. That’d been his routine before all the dragon madness had begun, but since then he’d grown accustomed to waking up early. His late night on lookout cliff had cost him the morning. 

“Well, let’s see the beauties!” Dagur’s voice was muffled, meaning they must be in his parents’ room. 

Nuffink pulled on his clothes and shoes and descended quietly, wondering what they were doing. Whatever it was, they probably hadn’t realized he was still home. Downstairs, Dagur was dragging a dark trunk from Hiccup and Astrid’s room. Nuffink knew the trunk well--it’d sat on his father’s side of the bed for as long as he could remember. It was painted black and enforced with iron, and a night fury insignia was stamped onto its clasp. A leather handle on the side made moving it easy. Hiccup had always used it as a nightstand of sorts, but Nuffink had never seen it opened.

Dagur pulled it to the fireplace and straightened up, wiping his hands together. “There we go--ah, hello there!” He said, noticing Nuffink lurking by the stairs. Astrid and Hiccup emerged from their room, Hiccup shutting the door behind him. “Late night?” The Berserker asked. Nuffink shrugged slightly, still intimidated by the other chief.

Astrid picked up the bread bowl and lantern from the table in front of the fireplace and sat them on the mantle. “Morning, hun. Where’s Eret?” She asked, pushing the table aside to make more room.

Nuffink squinted at his mother. Her usual two long braids were pinned in a halo around her head like Zephyr’s. “Er… I don’t know, the shipyard?” he answered, realizing why Eret hadn’t woken him up. His father had made it clear that he wouldn’t be allowed to work there anymore.

Astrid glanced at Hiccup, who avoided her gaze by kneeling down to open the trunk. Rather than using a key, he quickly twisted the clasp. He first spun it one way, then the other, then multiple small twists that Nuffink lost track of. Then the clasp popped forward and Hiccup pushed the lid up. He sat back and Dagur peered in. The Berserker whistled.

“Those scales are a sight for sore eyes, brother,” he said appreciatively. 

“I have to agree,” Hiccup grinned, reaching in and pulling something out. At first, Nuffink couldn’t tell what it was. It looked like a skinned dragon pelt. Then his father held it up and he realized it was _armor_. A piece of strange looking armor made of sleek, black dragon scales. Hiccup passed it up to Dagur, who stroked the scales before laying the armor on the table. Together, Nuffink’s mother and the Berserker chief assembled the pieces across the table, creating an almost full-body suit that included a mask. Nuffink inched over to the table and hesitantly brushed the chestplate with his fingers. Three deep scratches marred its surface--claw marks.

“Is it made out of a dragon?” he asked. He snatched his hand back as Astrid pushed the suit over and sat a pair of blue-scaled shoulder plates on the table.

His father scratched his beard and reached back into the trunk, still focused on its contents. “No, no, not exactly. The scales are adhered to leather using a scale paste. It took me forever to--” Hiccup froze and then twisted around to look up at Astrid.

“Your mask is missing?” He asked.

“Whoops. You got me,” Astrid smiled sheepishly. She disappeared into their room for a moment and returned with what Nuffink immediately recognized as the mask he’d seen weeks ago. It was made with the same blue scales from the suit and crowned with sharp spines. 

“I moved it to my trunk,” she explained. Hiccup looked baffled. “When? I haven’t opened this in years, it’s been covered in scrolls and…” he trailed off as Astrid bent over and kissed his hair. “Don’t worry about it,” she said, and Hiccup rolled his eyes, shaking his head. 

“Hey, Hiccup?” Dagur interrupted. The other chief had been handling the suits, analyzing their construction. “You’re missing a shoulder plate.” He held up one black plate. Sure enough, there wasn’t a matching one. 

Hiccup stood up and examined the suit. “Yeah, lost that one to… to Grimmel. And the wings.” He held the chestplate up to his actual chest and Astrid snickered. 

“I don’t know if it’s impressive or sad that it still fits,” she joked. Hiccup rolled his eyes again. 

“Har dee har, very funny,” he muttered. “I was worried I’d have to remould it, but this’ll work. I’ll replace the shoulder plate with leather.”

“It had wings?” Nuffink interrupted. His mother nodded and pulled on a handle, carefully unraveling blue fabric that had been tucked into her suit. 

“They’re flight suits,” she explained. “Your father made them for raids.”

“But they’re also fireproof,” Hiccup added. “Which is why we’re taking them. The wings will stay here, safe.” 

Nuffink had about a hundred questions. They’d really been able to fly _without_ dragons? Snotlout had never said that. And what else was kept in that trunk? What else had he never seen? 

As if listening to his thoughts, Hiccup reached back in and removed some sort of dragon-headed iron cylinder and a row of small canisters.

“I built this backup as a precaution,” Hiccup said, turning back to the table. “These canisters are full of zippleback gas and monstrous nightmare gel,” he explained to Nuffink. “Pop one in here,” he opened a compartment on the side of the dragon cylinder and mimed placing a canister inside before snapping it shut. “And press this button, and voila-” A strange, hollow sword shot from the cylinder, which was really a hilt. “You’ve got a sword that’s on fire.”

“Can I hold it?” Nuffink asked. Hiccup shrugged and pushed the button again, and the sword retracted into the hilt. He passed it to Nuffink, who carefully pressed the button and almost dropped the sword when it extended. “Wow,” he squeaked. The dragon sword was certainly cooler than his own small dagger. 

The Berserker chief was also admiring the blade. “I always loved that thing. Any chance you’d part with it?” he asked. Hiccup snorted.

“Yeah, right. Ask me again in Valhalla,” he said, taking the sword from Nuffink and closing it. “I only have a few fuel canisters left, so this is for emergencies only.” Hiccup stuck the hilt and the row of canisters onto his belt. 

“Nuffink, can you help your mother?” he asked, kneeling down to close the trunk. Astrid passed him pieces of her armor and picked up the rest. Nuffink followed her to the door but turned around when Dagur stopped Hiccup.

“Is that a dragon eye lens I spot in there?” the redheaded chief asked. “I thought you destroyed them all.”

“Er, yes, but… I kept one as a memento,” Hiccup admitted. “Sharp class, for Astrid.” He shut the trunk and spun the clasp around once, locking it.

Dagur chuckled and shook his head. “Naughty, naughty. I should’ve known you’d break your own rules, brother.” He patted Hiccup on the shoulder.

“Yeah, well, don’t tell anyone,” Hiccup warned, brushing Dagur’s hand away and standing up. He tucked the black chestplate under one arm and the Berserker chief took the rest. 

Astrid was waiting for Nuffink outside, and the four of them carried the suits all the way to the smithy so Hiccup could do some minor repairs. The whole way there, Nuffink was imagining how he and Eret would get into the trunk once his parents had gone. The clasp lock couldn’t be _that_ hard to figure out, if his father had remembered it for so many years.

Unable to pitch in at the shipyard, Nuffink grudgingly stayed to watch his father work. He learned that the other dragon riders, even Eret’s parents, all had dragon armor that they kept locked away. He also learned that the black trunk was coated with the same scale paste that made the suits fireproof, and the iron enforcements were actually made of gronckle iron, which Nuffink had read about in his father’s dragon book as a kid. The dragon blade, too, was made with gronckle iron. The flame could somewhat hypnotize dragons, which explained why his father was taking it--in case the night fury attacked. But he didn’t learn anything more about the suits’ flying abilities, and watched sadly as Hiccup carefully removed the wings from Astrid’s suit. He reassured Nuffink that the wings were completely re-attachable, and Nuffink wondered if they could be used _separately_ from the armor.

By afternoon the suits were ready. Hiccup packed them, along with the dragon blade, in one of the many trunks to be loaded onto the ship. Then Eret arrived to announce that the ship was complete. It was nearly mid-afternoon--Hiccup had been close to postponing until the next morning, but Gustav had delivered.

Nuffink itched to run back to the shipyard with Eret but followed after slowly, helping Hiccup carry the heavy trunk. They arrived just as the ship was being lowered over the side of the cliff. Nuffink helped his father stack the trunk on a platform rigged up to the same pulley system that was currently lowering the ship, then joined Eret at the cliffside to watch the ship’s descent. 

“Wow,” he breathed. “It’s really beautiful.”

“I know, right? I feel like we gave birth,” Eret said. Nuffink snickered. 

“I’m glad you came to see her off,” a voice called out from behind them. Nuffink turned to see Gustav approaching. He smiled at the older man.

“I wanted to help you finish, but… you know,” Nuffink shrugged. Gustav grimaced. 

“Yeah, I get it. But maybe tonight you guys could check out some new designs I’ve drawn up? They’re based on this one, I think you’ll find them interesting.” 

Nuffink nodded. His father wouldn’t be around to drag him away, and Gustav was going back to Berserker Island tomorrow anyway- who knew how long it would be until they saw him again.

“Are you gonna name the ship?” Eret asked. Gustav shook his head.

“No--I’d love to, but it’s not really mine. That honor goes to the chief. Oh, look--” he pointed to the docks. “She’s made it down. That’s a relief, I wasn’t so sure about your whole cliffside pulley system,” Gustav grinned. “I’m going down there, I’ll see you guys later.” 

The ship builder trotted off and the platform of trunks and supplies was lowered over the cliff face. They found Bjorn, who was totally red-faced and sweaty.

“I got stuck carrying trunks,” he explained. “Any idea where Zephyr is?”

Nuffink shrugged. “Probably down at the docks already. That’s where we’re going.” 

“I’ll come with you,” Bjorn said quickly. Eret rolled her eyes.

“She’s not gonna marry you, you know,” she said, turning and walking towards a path that led further down the cliff. From there, a series of rickety wooden ramps led all the way down to the docks. 

Nuffink made a gagging sound and Bjorn glared at her. “She’s my _cousin_, I--”

“Second cousin,” Eret interrupted. 

“Whatever! I don’t want to _marry_ Zephyr. I just wish I was going too, is all.”

“Me too,” Nuffink chimed in as they reached the ramps. “I also don’t want to marry my sister and wish I was going.”

“Shut up, Nuff’,” Bjorn griped. The trio made their way down the cliffside, Bjorn and Nuffink groaning and complaining at Eret’s slagging. Below them, the ship was being loaded with supplies, and Nuffink could see his family, the Berserkers, and a few others--Snotlout, Valka, and Old Gobber mainly. 

“You’re really gross… and mean,” Bjorn complained when they reached the docks. 

“I know,” Eret grinned proudly. Zephyr was standing with their father, Baldur, and the Berserker chief, but came over when she saw them.

“Nice of you to finally make it down,” Zephyr said, punching Bjorn lightly on the arm. His smile was more of a grimace as he rubbed the spot.

“It’s not my fault, your dad asked me to move trunks,” he defended himself. “Are you excited?”

“Yeah,” Zephyr admitted, crossing her arms. “I’m actually kind of nervous…”

Nuffink didn’t hear the rest--he was wandering towards his father and the Berserkers. 

“Nuffink!” Baldur greeted him. “We’re about to leave, just waiting for your mom and Aunt Heather. They’re bringing Windshear down.”

“Really?” Nuffink looked up, but he couldn’t see the dragon. 

“Soon-- Listen...” Baldur lowered his voice, putting a hand on Nuffink’s shoulder and steering him away from their fathers. “I’m supposed to go back to Caldera Cay after this, but I’m trying to arrange it so I go to Berserker Island instead. You should visit… maybe apprentice with Gustav? I heard you worked on the ship.”

Nuffink raised his eyebrows in surprise. He hadn’t actually considered that--he figured if anyone was going to Berserker Island, it’d be Eret. But being Gustav’s apprentice wasn’t a terrible idea. 

“Yeah… that sounds really cool,” he nodded. 

Baldur smiled. “Good. I’ll--”

He was interrupted by Windshear dropping out of the sky and landing on the main deck of the boat. Astrid whooped and slid off the dragon’s back. “I could get used to that again,” she declared, walking down the plank. 

“Alright then, we’re all set,” Hiccup announced. Everyone began moving forward to say their goodbyes. Hiccup said a few words to Snotlout, then moved on to Old Gobber. Gustav and Dagur performed some sort of handshake that involved them both spinning in a circle, and the Berserker chief managed to butcher Snoutlout’s name before boarding the ship. Baldur clapped Nuffink on the back and then waved goodbye as he followed his father. 

“Come here,” Astrid appeared next to Nuffink and pulled him into a hug. “Mom… I can’t breathe,” he gasped. 

“Sorry,” she released her grip. “Just--stay safe, okay? We’ll be back soon.”

Nuffink nodded and hugged his mother again. Over her shoulder, he could see his father caught in a similar lung-crushing hug with Valka. 

Valka freed Hiccup and he made his way over to Nuffink and Astrid. Nuffink turned to his father, who smiled tightly, and for a moment he thought Hiccup would pat his back or shake his hand or something--then he was pulled into another tight hug, his father’s beard scratching his forehead. 

“Listen to Valka and Snotlout,” Hiccup said when he pulled away. “Don’t get into any trouble--and try to visit Gobber. He’d love to see your designs.” He ruffled his hair and turned away.

“Wait--” Nuffink blurted out. “What did you name the ship?”

His father’s eyebrows raised and Astrid and Zephyr paused where they were climbing the plank.

“I almost forgot,” Hiccup shook his head. “She’s called _Eurus_. To deliver us eastward.”

Gustav whistled in approval. “Always a showoff with the names.” 

The plank was lifted and the two chiefs got to work adjusting the sails. Nuffink, Eret, and Bjorn took to the ramps, waving goodbye as they climbed. The _Eurus_ was fast, and by the time they’d reached the top of the cliff they could only barely make out the telltale glint of Windshear’s scales in the sun.  
\--

Tuffnut arrived back from the Northern Markets that night. Nuffink and Eret were eating in the Great Hall, waiting for Gustav to arrive, when Tuffnut sauntered in.

“You’re just a couple hours late,” Eret told him, picking at her lamb chops.

“So I’ve heard,” Tuffnut shook his head. “Oh well, I’ve got nothing much to report. No new dragon sightings or anything, only one response to the letters I delivered.” He pulled a folded piece of parchment from his vest and waved it around. “Anyone know where Gustav is? This letter is for Baldur, but I figured Gustav can get it to him eventually.”

“Who’s it from?” Nuffink asked curiously. Tuffnut shrugged.

“A swordsmith. Guess he wanted a new sword ready when they get there, or something.”

“Gustav is meeting us here in a while,” Eret offered. “We could give it to him.”

“Sounds great,” her uncle agreed, tossing the letter onto the table. “By the way, I’m crashing at your house tonight. Need Ruff’ to crack my back and check out my weird toenail. See you ‘nuts later,” he stretched his back and yawned before waving and leaving the hall. 

Nuffink’s nose scrunched up. “Weird toenail? That’s disgusting,” he gagged. 

“Check this out,” Eret ignored him, picking up the letter. It was sealed with stamped red wax. “What is that?” she pointed at the stamp.

Nuffink took the letter from her. “I don’t know, antlers?”

Eret pulled it back and squinted at the stamp. “You’re right… my dad has a brooch that looks just like this.”

“A brooch?” Nuffink snickered. Eret rolled her eyes.

“Shut up,” she said, punching him in the arm. “Yes, a brooch. There’s a lot of northern tribes, right? Well, my dad’s uses an owl insignia. But when he was a dragon, er, wrangler, he worked for this warlord whose insignia was a reindeer. So he wore an antler brooch to show his allegiance. And it looks _just_ like this.” She slapped the letter down on the table for emphasis.

Nuffink raised his eyebrows. “Nice history lesson. It’s probably just a coincidence. Uncle Tuff said this was from a swordsmith, not a northerner or a dragon trapper.”

“What kind of swordsmith would use a stamp to seal his letters?” 

“I don’t know, a fancy one? Who likes deer?” Nuffink shrugged and slipped the letter away from her. “Besides, it’s Baldur’s business, not ours.”

Eret’s head dropped into her hands. “I can’t believe an honorary ‘Nut would ever say that,” she groaned into her palm. “I’m gonna need that necklace back.” 

“Hey, no-” Nuffink laughed as she grabbed for his necklace. He pulled his necklace away from her grasp but she snatched the letter instead. “No fair!” he yelped as she quickly popped the seal with her thumbnail.

“Hey, seriously, come on-” Nuffink protested. “That’s Baldur’s, we shouldn’t read it-”  
Eret leaned away from him on the bench, holding the letter out of his reach as she tried to read it. “You’ve known him for like, a couple days. I know you’ve got that whole pretend cousins thing going on, but he’s pretty shady-” she drifted off, eyes widening. “Woah.”

“What? What is it?” Nuffink asked, brows knitting together. Eret showed him the letter.

“I didn’t think I was actually right,” she admitted. Nuffink tried to make sense of what he was reading.

_Baldur--_

_We stay here until we receive 50 gold coins for traps and travel. You pay for service and dragon when it’s down._

_Cato_

“He’s paying dragon hunters,” Eret whispered, scanning it again over his shoulder.

“No, no way. There has to be something we don’t understand,” Nuffink stuttered. Baldur wouldn’t… he wasn’t _bad_. “Baldur loves dragons, he wouldn’t hurt one. Maybe he’s trying to help my father track the night fury, maybe he asked him, or…” There was no other explanation. Nuffink knew his father despised dragon hunters more than anything else. Baldur had just made a mistake. 

“Seriously? That doesn’t make any sense,” she huffed. “We should at least show this to Gustav. See what he thinks. If he wants to trap the dragon, or… or kill it, he’s putting your whole family in danger!”

“Keep your voice down!” Nuffink hissed. “We’ll show it to Gustav, okay? But not here-- he’s probably still at the shipyard.” 

They stood up and, like a pair of vikings with a lot of practice in mischief, left the hall inconspicuously. Nuffink even waved goodnight to Old Gobber and Valka. 

A light was lit inside the workshop at the shipyard, but the shipbuilder wasn’t in the main storage room where Nuffink kept his old fishing boat.

“Gustav?” Nuffink called. Some rustling came from one of the adjacent rooms. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Gustav appeared in the doorway. “I totally forgot,” he said, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. “Come on in and take a look at what I’m working on, though--”

“We don’t have time for that,” Eret interrupted. Gustav’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. 

“Here,” Nuffink said quietly, crossing the room to hand him the letter. “Read this.” Gustav squinted at the letter with his one eye. His face darkened as he absorbed its brief contents. “So…” he said after a few minutes. “You guys think Baldur told some dragon hunters?”

Nuffink bit his lip, but Eret nodded. “The insignia on the stamp is a northern dragon trapper symbol. Nuff’s family might be in trouble,” she said. 

Gustav sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Listen, I--I mean I know Baldur, and his family… I don’t know…”

“He’s trying to help,” Nuffink protested. “But… well, now the hunters know about the dragon. And that my family is going to find it. They might even know my father will be there.”

“Okay, okay. Here’s what I’m going to do. The letter said the hunters are waiting in the Northern Markets--that’s your parents’ first stop. I’ll sail there on a smaller ship, get there at the same time and show them the letter. Then Hiccup will know what to do. Does that sound good?” 

“I want to go with you,” Nuffink declared.

“What? No!” Gustav exclaimed. “Your dad would kill me--your _mom_ would kill me.”

“Come on,” Nuffink argued. “I want to help, you said it’ll be fast! And I can be useful on the boat!”

“If he goes, I go,” Eret chimed in. 

“Nope, not a chance,” Gustav said, turning around. “I’m going alone

“Wait!” Nuffink lurched forward and grabbed the older man’s arm, forcing him to turn all the way around to view Nuffink with his good eye. “Please, Gustav. I have to defend Baldur--my dad won’t understand.”

Gustav blinked at him for a moment before sighing heavily. “Fine, fine,” he held up a hand to silence him. “But you guys are gonna stay out of trouble, okay? And pull your weight on the ship. And if Astrid kills me, that’s on you.”

Nuffink and Eret agreed enthusiastically.

“I need to gather some supplies. Meet me at the docks at midnight, okay? We’re going to need a ship, and I know just the one.”  
\--

“The _Chicken_!?” Nuffink and Eret exclaimed in unison.

Gustav’s eye gleamed in the candlelight. “Well, yeah, what else? It’s the fastest one here.”

Eret started to protest, but the older man interrupted her.

“Woah, woah, woah, who is _that_?” he asked.

Nuffink looked back to see Bjorn step into the circle of light. “Um, hey guys?”

“I invited him,” Eret explained. “He’s useful and, uh, he really wanted to go on the hunting trip, sooo…” 

“And I totally knew Baldur was shady before anyone else. I’m intuitive like that,” Bjorn boasted.

Gustav rolled his eye. “You know every extra person slows the boat down, right? Especially with his body type.”

Bjorn clutched his gut. “Hey--My dad says I have the ideal male physique.”

“Yeah, well, he would,” Gustav muttered, tossing another bag into the boat.

“He’s not _that_ big,” Eret argued. “And he already knows, so he might as well come.”

To Nuffink’s surprise, Gustav glanced back at him. “Well? Is he?”

“Er--I guess?” Nuffink shrugged, unused to being consulted on group decisions.

Gustav groaned. “Okay, now Astrid _and_ Snotlout are going to kill me--remember that this was all your idea when that time comes. Are you guys ready?”

The trio nodded, and the four vikings boarded the _Chicken_. Gustav blew out the lantern, and they sailed away from the docks in total darkness.

“It looks a lot taller at night,” Bjorn commented, peering up at Berk’s looming cliffs. “Kind of spooky.”

Nuffink glanced up from the knot he was tying. His cousin was right- the island blocked the moonlight from the west, casting a dark shadow over the ocean. It was eerie. 

“Better for us,” Gustav reflected. “Darkness, no need for defenses on these steep cliffs… On Berserker Island, there’d be guards all over this ship before we’d even left the harbor. And look up there--” They were far enough away from the cliffside to see lights from the village shining murkily through the low-hanging clouds. “Nobody even knows we’re gone.” 

Nuffink felt his stomach sink. The shipbuilder was right--nobody knew they were leaving. If anything happened to them, there would be no way for Berk to contact the hunting party. They’d taken the fastest ship. Despite Gustav’s skill as a sailor, Nuffink suddenly felt very uneasy. His parents had asked him to stay safe at home. And, sure, he’d been planning to test out the detached wings from his mother’s flight suit, which probably would’ve ended with a few bones being reset by Ruffnut, but this was certainly more dangerous.

It was to warn his family, he reminded himself. To keep them safe, in case Baldur had made a mistake by writing the hunters.

As they passed out of the island’s shadow, Nuffink realized with nervous excitement that he’d never been that far from Berk before.  
\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> My tumblr blog for this fic's resources (https://otwdfanfic.tumblr.com/tagged/character-design) has been updated with a drawing of Bjorn. It was drawn last summer and isn't the greatest, my apologies to the Jorgensons.
> 
> I'm starting chapter 6 now, so hopefully chapter 5 will be posted in a reasonable amount of time. In it, we'll check in on the _Eurus_...
> 
> Thank you SO much for reading, and please comment with any questions you have!


	5. Dinner Talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for continuing to read this fic! In this chapter, we check in on the _Eurus_. I'm super pumped to be updating so quickly after the last update. Hopefully I can keep this up, more-or-less.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and please comment if you have any questions!

“Ah, finally,” Hiccup sighed, breaking Zephyr’s concentration. She glanced up in time to see the silver dragon drop out of the sky and land smoothly on the upper deck of the _Eurus_. Baldur slipped off its back and Zephyr held up her hunk of wood in comparison. 

“It looks more like a yak than a dragon,” she grumbled. 

“Ehh, close enough,” her father shrugged. “Any news?” he called to Baldur, who was making his way down the short stairs two at a time. The _Eurus_ was unlike any ship that Zephyr had ever seen in that it had two decks. They were sitting at a table that had been temporarily nailed to the lower deck near the bow of the ship. It was covered in maps and charts, and one map featured a collection of islands in the northeast archipelago. In the very center was Dragon’s Edge, the old command post of the dragon riders and the future campsite of their dragon hunt. In the few days they’d spent on the sea, the maps hadn’t changed much--they wouldn’t have any new information until they reached the Northern Markets, and Zephyr could tell the chiefs were getting itchy. Yesterday the Berserker chief’s meditation exercises had taken up most of the afternoon.

“Heather’s gonna wear her out,” Baldur replied as he approached their table. As if on cue, Windshear wheeled around and flapped her broad wings twice, taking her and Heather aloft.

The chief shielded his eyes and watched the razorwhip disappear into the clouds. “She’ll be cooped up below deck, so she might as well stretch her wings,” He agreed. “That is, if..?”

“The Northern Markets are only an hour away, just beyond the fog bank,” Baldur confirmed. Zephyr’s father sighed in relief. 

“Thank Thor,” he said, standing up. “I’m gonna tell Astrid the good news. Both of you, change into something inconspicuous. I’d rather the merchants and spies _not_ discover who we are.”

Zephyr nodded and Hiccup limped away to go below deck. She stood up, tossing her yak-razorwhip onto the table and tucking her knife into her belt. 

“Is this supposed to be Windshear?” Baldur picked up the figurine, eyebrows raised. The action distorted his tattoo. “It looks more like a yak.”

Zephyr rolled her eyes. “It is a yak,” she grumbled, brushing past him. She still didn’t trust the Berserker prince. He was too composed all the time, which Zephyr would usually appreciate in a viking, after spending so much time with Eret. But Baldur’s cool behavior had an edge, like a mean child on his best behavior for the adults--which, coincidentally, was how she’d always remembered him. Nuffink may’ve trusted him, but Baldur had done nothing to improve her opinion of him. Nuffink was _too_ trusting, always thinking with his heart instead of his head. His judgement wasn’t reliable, anway. Eret was his best friend, afterall.

She skirted around the iron grate that covered the stairs to the hold, where Windshear and their supplies were kept, and headed for the cabins, which were halfway under the upper deck. It was only a few steps down, and then a painfully narrow hallway with two doors on either side and a single door at the end that led to their food storage closet. She slid the door on the left open and slipped into her family’s cabin. She’d initially been impressed with Gustav’s ability to house six vikings in more-or-less comfort on a medium-sized ship where most of the space was devoted to dragon-holding. Now she was just sick of sharing such a small space with the Berserkers. Evidently, they were sick of each other as well. Only the chief and Baldur slept in the cabin across the hall from theirs--Heather had taken to sleeping in the hold with Windshear after the first night.

Zephyr pulled her mother’s trunk from underneath her cot. She unclasped her white fur hood and tucked it into the trunk. Her leather satchel was branded with her father’s night fury insignia, so it’d have to stay behind. Behind her, she heard someone--presumably Baldur, by his light step--enter the other cabin. She pushed her mother’s blue flight suit aside and dug around for some sort of traveling cloak. She didn’t _think_ her clothes were that outrageous, but she’d never been off of Berk to find out. There was one cloak packed, but she figured her mother would need that one.

Zephyr sat back in defeat. She was about to dive into her father’s trunk when a jangling from the other cabin caught her ear. _What is he up to?_. She slid her cabin door open and stood up to reach across the hall and open the other. In the dim light from the two small portholes, Baldur was sitting with a satchel and a pile of gold coins strewn across his cot. He glanced up as she slid the door open. 

“What are you doing?” she asked, squinting at the tableau. He had changed into some sort of gray, unrecognizable uniform, and his trunk was open. 

Baldur seemed unimpressed. “Counting? And you’re… snooping?” he suggested, expression neutral.

She crossed her arms, eyebrows furrowing. “Why do you have so much gold?”

He smirked. “I’m a prince,” he said, dropping a coin into the satchel with a _plunk_.

Zephyr scrunched her nose in disgust and began to shut the door. 

“Hey, wait--are you going to wear that? Take this,” he pulled something from the trunk and tossed it to her. She caught it and shook it out, revealing a plain gray cloak. 

“Er--thanks,” she said uncertainly, holding it out. “You’ve been to the Northern Markets?”

“A few times. It’s not a pretty place. The harder it is for eyes to linger, the better,” Baldur added, his focus returning to the coins. “You should put your hair back up.”

She glanced down at her braids, which were usually wrapped up in milkmaid braids. Lazy days on the _Eurus_ had lent themselves to messy hair. She nodded and stepped out, pulling the door shut behind her. That had been weird. Really weird. _He_ was really weird. She shook her head and returned to her cabin.  
\--

An hour later, Zephyr, her mother, father, and Baldur stepped off of the docked _Eurus_. The Berserker chief was too recognizable to even consider going ashore, and Heather was staying with Windshear, who was restless below deck. 

“Are you sure this is wise? For you, I mean,” Astrid asked as they entered the market area. A labyrinth of stalls and shops selling all kinds of wares seemed to go in all directions. 

Hiccup raised his eyebrows. “Really? Who would recognize me without, you know…”

Astrid shrugged and smirked. “I’m not sure anybody has forgotten the skinniest one-legged viking in the Archipelago.”

The chief rolled his eyes. “Very funny. I wasn’t _that_ skinny,” he added, stopping to consult Dagur’s hastily drawn map. He stared at it for a moment, then turned it sideways. “Can you understand this?” he asked, passing it to Baldur in bewilderment.

A flash of red caught Zephyr’s attention from the corner of her eye, distracting her from the dysfunctional map. She ventured toward the source. A pelt of red scales hung on display in front of a stall, waving gently in the sea breeze.

“Hey, Mom?” Zephyr called back. She reached out and brushed the scales with her fingertips. It felt completely different from Windshear’s smooth plates--more reptilian. 

“A terrible terror,” Her mother murmured, approaching behind her.

“Is it… New?” Zephyr asked. Suddenly, a hand smacked her wrist. “No touching!” growled the merchant who had suddenly appeared behind the booth. Zephyr snatched her hand away quickly and her mother stepped forward.

“She’s never seen a dragon,” Astrid amended, shaking her head as if to say, ‘kids, am I right?’. 

The merchant grinned, revealing a few haggard teeth. “Genuine fireworm. Been in the family for generations, since before the dragons disappeared. You interested?” 

Her mother declined and apologized to the merchant, nudging Zephyr away from the stall. She glanced back at the red pelt. Was that what hunters had pursued the dragons to the ends of the Earth for? Lifeless scales and horns? Zephyr’s face was sour with disgust when they caught up to her father and the Berserker prince. 

“Any luck?” her mother asked.

“Well, yes, actually,” Hiccup rubbed the back of his neck and then his beard. He gestured to the Berserker, who was holding up the map. “Baldur’s reading it, somehow.”

The redhead laughed. “I can’t read it any better than you can, uncle,” he admitted. “But my father’s directions were meant to lead you to our Berserker informant, right?” The chief nodded. “That would be a fishmonger two rows that way,” Baldur gestured around a corner. “He has a great big wooden trout out front, painted green. You can’t miss it--I was just here a few months ago.” He passed the map back to Hiccup.

“How were we supposed to get _that_ from _this_?” The chief gave the map one last incredulous look.

“Beats me, he’s your brother,” Astrid chuckled, shrugging one shoulder. “Good thing we brought Baldur.”

The Berserker smirked and Zephyr resisted the urge to groan. _He’d have no reason to be so smug if his father weren’t such a quack._ Not that Zephyr disliked Dagur--he was an admirable warrior and apparently a competent chief--but she was quickly reaching her limit.

“Alright, we’ll handle this,” Hiccup said, tucking the useless map into his satchel. “You kids can look around, but stick together and stay out of trouble--this shouldn’t take long.”

Zephyr’s eyes widened as her father turned. “But I--” 

Astrid cut her off with a knowing Look. “Come on, he’s just given you free reign of the markets. Look around, maybe buy a new knife? We’ll meet back here in half an hour, go live a little.”

“Don’t encourage them!” the chief complained over his shoulder. Her mother winked at them and followed him.

_Stuck with Baldur? Really?_ Zephyr tried to hide her discomfort as they waved her parents off. 

When they had turned the corner, Baldur turned and strode off without a word of warning.

“Hey--wait!” Zephyr quickly cut him off. “My dad said to stick together,” she said, crossing her arms. 

“Yes, well,” the Berserker prince brushed past her. “I’ve got something to pick up. Tag along if you’d like, but I’m not waiting on you.” 

Zephyr inhaled sharply through her nose. “Excuse me? What is your _deal?_ You act so perfect around my parents but as soon as they’re gone you--”

Baldur swiveled around and grabbed her arm, clamping his other hand over her mouth. “Keep it down! We’re trying to be inconspicuous, remember?”

Zephyr roughly shoved him and pulled his hand from her mouth, twisting his fingers backwards. “_Do not_ try me,” she hissed. 

“Ow, ow, ow!” Baldur grimaced, green eyes flashing with shock. “Okay, I’m sorry, stop that!” She released him and he stumbled back a few steps.

“Gods, you’re stronger than you look,” he muttered, massaging his knuckles. 

“And you’re wimpier than you look,” Zephyr retorted, smiling innocently at a merchant who was leaning over his booth to watch. “So, are you gonna start talking?” 

Baldur glared at her and she narrowed her eyes, unimpressed. 

The Berserker sighed and looked up at the sky. “You didn’t give me a chance, okay?” he said accusingly. Zephyr raised her eyebrows and he continued, “You already hated me and you tried to make Nuffink think I’m crazy--yes, he told me,” he added when she opened her mouth to object. “I know I freaked you out when we were kids, but that’s just how Berserkers play, and I was having a difficult time with my parents…” he trailed off suddenly and Zephyr flushed with shame. Was it that simple? Had he just been a normal Berserker kid? Their fathers hadn’t seemed concerned, but they hadn’t heard the threats… Threats coming from a child. A child with a difficult home life. Suddenly, she felt very foolish. 

“Oh.” She searched the stalls behind Baldur for something to say. Perhaps she’d been… a little judgemental. Just a bit. “Um… I’m sorry. For not giving you the chance to prove yourself.” She swung her arm awkwardly as she said it.

Baldur studied her for a moment and then smiled slightly. “I accept. But can we walk? I do really need to pick up my sword.”

Zephyr rolled her eyes but nodded, adjusting her cloak from where it had slipped off her shoulder and walking alongside the Berserker. The trinket shops gave away to armor salesmen as they turned the corner, and Zephyr admired the artisan breastplates and chainmail. 

“Why were you upset earlier?” Baldur asked as they walked. She looked at him dubiously and he glanced sideways at her. “I mean, when we were looking at the map,” he explained. 

_Oh--_Zephyr had almost forgotten about the dragon pelt. “There was a red dragon pelt for sale--it was old, though. A terrible terror.”

Baldur whistled. “Impressive how easy those are to find, isn’t it? Considering they’ve been gone for almost twenty years.” They zig-zagged through a gap between stalls and the armor salesmen ended, weapon craftsmen taking their place. “They must’ve been all over the place, like catching rats,” Baldur commented as he scanned up and down the row. 

Zephyr gave his back a withering look. “Don’t make light of it--they’re all gone now because of dirty dragon hunters.” 

Baldur looked at her sharply. “You shouldn’t say that, there could be some _here_,” he warned quietly. 

“_What?_”

He nodded. “They’re still around… chasing after the same thing we are.” He kept one hand securely on his satchel and gestured for her to follow him towards the end of the weapons stalls and forges.

Zephyr eyed the stalls around them. “But--here?”

“This place is full of undesirable business,” Baldur shrugged. “Ah, here it is.” 

The stall they were approaching had no sign, but an elk skull was mounted over the entryway. Its massive antlers branched towards the sky, points glowing against the low sun. The clanging of a hammer on steel resounded from beyond a thick curtain at the back of the shopfront. 

Baldur stepped halfway into the stall. “Excuse me?” he called. The clanging stopped abruptly. Two voices briefly exchanged words that Zephyr couldn’t make out, and a man emerged from the curtain. The glow of a forge beyond it illuminated the dimming stall. 

“Can I help you?” the man sneered. His shoulder-length blonde hair hung in a few messy braids, though most of it was loose and wavy, his face was extremely angular, and his large nose looked like it’d been broken once or twice. Most notably, he had a strange accent that Zephyr had never heard on Berk. 

“I’m picking up a sword I ordered--I’m the Berserker who wrote,” Baldur patted his satchel. “I’ve brought payment.”

The man’s bright gray eyes jumped from the satchel, to Zephyr, and back to Baldur. “It’s not ready--we don’t start without payment,” he shrugged. 

The redhead’s eyebrows shot together and he stepped forward, shoulders tensing. “You haven’t _started_? Are _you_ Cato?” he demanded incredulously. 

The man--Cato--smirked, but his eyes were steely. “Step into the smithy, and we can discuss your payment--and terms.” He moved to one side, pulling the curtain further open.

Baldur glanced back at Zephyr. “Stay in the shop.”

“What? You can’t leave me out here,” she furrowed her brows. Cato looked like the least trustworthy man in the entire market. Surely there were other, more amiable swordsmiths.

“I’ll just be a moment,” he told her, reaching up to touch her arm but wisely thinking better of it. She squinted at him as he disappeared through the curtain. Cato eyed her before following the Berserker, and Zephyr shivered in disgust. _What a creep._

Looking around in the poorly lit shopfront, Zephyr located a crate and plonked herself down onto it, propping her arm on her knee and leaning her head on her fist. Baldur was absolutely infuriating. She peered over the booth at the other weapons stalls, wondering if there was still time to shop around. _I should probably stay here, in case Cato tries to kill him._ She snorted at the thought. 

Four swords were displayed on the opposite wall along with a mace, and Zephyr scanned them, wondering what made Cato’s craftsmanship worth all the trouble. They seemed pretty standard, as far as Zephyr could tell. Swords weren’t very popular on Berk--why use a sword when you could use an axe, or a mace?--but these were all the same length and shape, with similar curved hilts. She stood up and crossed the small space to inspect their design. Each crossguard curved towards the blade and ended in two fanged animal heads. Examining the sword in the middle, small runes on the blade caught her attention. Squinting in the low light, she made out the words--_NIGHT FURY_.

Was that the name of the sword? Zephyr examined the others and discovered similar runes. Nadder, Zippleback, Stormcutter. _So the crossguard heads must be dragons, then._ Zephyr jumped a bit when the curtain shook behind her and swiveled to see Baldur pushing his way through with a stony expression.

“Let’s go,” was all he said. 

“Well?” Zephyr asked, following him out of the stall. He’d left the satchel of gold with Cato. “You still want the sword after all that? I saw those dragon swords, they weren’t _that_ special.”

Baldur shrugged. “It’s, er, for my mother. An eruptodon sword. I’ll pick it up on the way back.”

Zephyr glanced at him. The furrow of his eyebrows didn’t match the indifference of his tone, and was made more obvious by the dark blue tattoo.

“I just--wasn’t expecting that, is all,” he added when he caught her scrutinizing gaze. Zephyr raised an eyebrow slightly but said nothing, and they navigated out of the maze of stalls in silence.  
\--

Zephyr watched the lights from the market disappear as the _Eurus_ passed into the fogbank. Her parents were in good spirits, despite her and Baldur being late back to their meeting spot--another account had rolled in of a dragon near Wreck Reef, which only reinforced her father’s determination to camp at Dragon’s Edge. He, her mother, and the Berserker chief were playing cards at the table near the foremast now. Her father was guffawing at something the other chief had said.

Heather emerged from the cabins and Zephyr pushed away from the railing.

“Is Windshear staying in the hold?” she asked as the Berserker passed, carrying four mugs of mead. 

“Mmh,” Heather affirmed. “She’ll be down there til we pass Odin’s Respite--there’s no telling who’s sailing around out here.”

Zephyr nodded and made her way to the grate that covered the stairs in the hold. As she hoisted the grate open, she heard the distinct squawking sound of her mother imitating her father’s voice. The Berserker siblings burst into laughter and Zephyr smiled and rolled her eyes as she descended into the hold. 

The hold spanned the hull but was divided by crates that were mostly full of food, water, and other back-up supplies. An area had been cleared for Windshear just beyond the stairs, and hay was spread on the floor for her comfort. Haybails surrounded the area.

“Hey, Windshear,” Zephyr called as she stepped away from the stairs. The razorwhip was curled up in the hay, facing away from her. A lantern sat on the floor nearby. “Someone left you a lantern? Or did you light it yourself?” she joked as she approached. The silver dragon twisted her head around and gazed at her with one green eye. She reached out and scratched the underside of Windshear’s chin, and the razorwhip rumbled happily. “Are you excited to be out at sea again?” Zephyr asked her. “You’ve got to be bored down here.”

A soft snort came from beyond the dragon’s spines, and Zephyr froze. Holding her breath, she craned her neck to peer over Windshear’s wings and caught a glimpse of red hair. 

“You!?” she accused, ducking under the dragon’s plated neck. Baldur was leaning against her belly on the other side, covering his mouth with one hand to stifle his laughter. “Were you just going to sit there and spy on me?” she asked indignantly. 

“I was here first,” he pointed out, smirking up at her. “And I wanted to hear what you two would talk about.”

“Ugh,” Zephyr huffed with annoyance, spinning around to go back on deck.

“Hey--wait!” Baldur sat up. Zephyr frowned back at him, one eyebrow raised. “Come sit,” he said, scooting over. “She’s warm.” 

“Why should I?” Zephyr scowled, but couldn’t resist her curiosity. She stepped closer and placed a hand on one of the dragon’s large back plates. It was fairly cool, just like her neck and face. She ran her palm down the curve under her wing and, squatting, traced it to her smaller belly scales. Each was about the size of her hand and sure enough, they were warm.

She glanced up, face to face with the Berserker. “See?” he grinned. She rolled her eyes but gave in, sitting down. They couldn’t have any fire bigger than a lantern aboard the ship, and the cold, constant sea spray was more pervasive than the crisp air that Zephyr was used to on Berk. Windshear rumbled and twisted her neck around, resting her head across Zephyr’s criss-crossed lap. Zephyr smiled slightly and scratched the top of the dragon’s head, closing her eyes--leaning against the razorwhip felt like sitting near a fireplace.

She felt the Berserker’s eyes on her. “What?” she asked, opening her eyes to look pointedly at him. 

Baldur was observing her with an odd expression. His tattoo resembled a dark bruise in the lantern’s flickering light. “She really likes you,” he said, a tinge of disbelief in his voice. 

“She likes everyone,” Zephyr muttered, glancing away from his gaze. She traced the curved ridge over the dragon’s eye. 

“No… She’s not very trusting,” Baldur shook his head slightly, leaning towards her to brush his knuckles against Windshear’s nose. “She was raised by my aunt… They’re both skittish.” 

Unsure what to say, Zephyr stayed quiet. Laughing and stomping permeated the hold from overhead, easing the silence. Finally, she asked-- “Is that why she stayed when the dragons left?” 

Baldur hummed in affirmation. “Have you heard of the Wingmaidens?” He glanced at her. 

“No?” 

He smiled slightly. “You wouldn’t have. They’re a very well-kept secret.” 

Zephyr raised an eyebrow. “As if there’s anything about dragons that my dad doesn’t know.”

“And he tells you everything, does he?” Baldur snorted. She opened her mouth to object but closed it when he raised his eyebrows in amusement. “Fine. Continue,” she acquiesced, curiosity piqued. 

“Razorwhips are born blind, and most are eaten by their own fathers,” Baldur explained. Zephyr winced. “The Wingmaidens protect the hatchlings, who form strong bonds with their caretakers, just like my aunt and Windshear.” He tickled the dragon’s nose and received a rumbling snort for his efforts. “The bond is too strong--they just wouldn’t leave.” 

Zephyr leaned forward. “Well? Have you been there? To their island?”

The Berserker laughed softly. “I’m not even supposed to know about them. My aunt told me… you can’t tell anyone. We have to keep them safe.”

Zephyr nodded, then paused. “Why did you tell me, then?”

“We’re both going to be chiefs, someday. We can’t protect what we don’t know about,” he shrugged. 

She hadn’t thought about that, yet. Of course, Zephyr was aware that _she_ would be the chief of Berk--she’d been preparing for the position her entire life. And she knew that Baldur was the son of two chiefs but… she hadn’t considered the fact that they would both be chiefs at the same time, forced to work together on occasion like the Hooligans and Berserkers were doing now. Unless… 

“Which tribe will you inherit?” she asked, causing him to glance quickly up from Windshear. “You’re representing the Defenders, aren’t you?” She didn’t know anything about the other tribe, aside from their strange clothes and that they were ruled by a queen--Baldur’s mother. 

He sat back, looking up at the deck. It sounded like her mother and the Berserker chief were having an axe-throwing contest above them, and her father kept stomping the deck with his prosthetic leg. 

“I was trained with the Defenders,” he began, and for a moment it seemed like he had much more to say. “But… I was raised with the Berserkers,” he finished definitively. 

“That’s difficult.” The responsibility of inheriting Berk weighed heavily on Zephyr. She looked forward to serving her people, but she couldn’t imagine feeling the weight of two tribes. And having to pick between them… If he was even given the choice. Zephyr couldn’t imagine making a choice like that. 

Baldur looked back over at Windshear. “Not really.” 

Before Zephyr could ask, he was standing up. “I’m going to bed,” he informed her, stretching. “I’ll leave you two to whatever conversation I interrupted.”

Windshear lifted up her head and tracked him as he walked around her, and he scratched her nose before climbing the stairs to the deck. 

The dragon turned back to Zephyr, who sighed heavily. “That was confusing,” she told her. Windshear rumbled and repositioned her legs, shifting her wings and forcing Zephyr to move away. When she was settled, Zephyr leaned back against the dragon’s stomach. The events of the day replayed in her head. She felt like she’d seen a different side of the Berserker prince--someone more familiar. He’d been _trying_ to open up, that much was clear… but Zephyr had no idea why, when she’d been nothing but suspicious of his intentions since they’d met. Windshear clearly trusted him, and maybe that meant something. He’d seemed to think it did with her. She resolved to return the effort--if not to build a friendship, which she told herself that she didn’t particularly want or need, then at least for the sake of tribal relationships.

Eventually the din above ceased, and Zephyr bid goodnight to the dragon and returned to the Haddock’s cabin for a restless night in her cot.  
\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> I've started chapter 7, so fingers crossed that I finish in the next two weeks so I can update with chapter 6. I have finals this week that are pretty stressful, so we'll see how it goes. Chapter 6 is pretty short, but we'll return to Nuffink and the story will pick up soon :)
> 
> Thank you SO much for reading and please comment with any questions you have!


	6. Together We Map the World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who has read this fic, and those who are reading this now! Y’all make OTWD feel so loved! Those of you that have commented, thank you so so much! Your comments inspire me so much and you cannot imagine the grin on my face when I think about them.
> 
> I know this chapter is pretty short, but our little motley crew is on their merry way.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!

“Ugh,” Eret moaned. “I think I have scurvy.” She rolled onto her back next to Nuffink, who was laying on his stomach on a leather tarp that was pulled tight over the bow. It was meant to protect cargo that didn’t fit in the small hold, but they’d been using it as a hammock of sorts. He rested his head on one folded arm while the other draped over the side, swinging lazily in the sea spray. 

“Mmm,” Nuffink hummed. “Takes like, three months to get scurvy.”

She lifted her arm overhead, peering at her elbow. “Then what’s this?” she asked, shoving her elbow towards Nuffink’s face. 

He lifted his head slightly and scrunched his nose. “That’s the bruise from when you almost fell overboard.”

“Really?” she pulled it back and examined it. Nuffink dropped his head back to his arm, resting on his cheek to watch the horizon. The deep blue ocean sparkled like crystal in the sunlight.

The past few days on the water had been the most exhilarating, and taxing, of Nuffink’s life. Living on the _Chicken_ was hard work, all day long--measuring the wind, adjusting the sails, tying knots. So many knots. Nuffink’s fingers and palms were covered in blisters from working the lines all day, though he was hoping they’d be replaced with calluses by the end of their trip. 

A low moan came from below the tarp, where Bjorn was wallowing in the shade. He’d been seasick from the first night, much to Gustav’s annoyance. Rough waters the day before hadn’t helped to ease the Jorgenson’s nausea. Nuffink was working twice as hard to make up for his friends, but he didn’t mind. He loved his responsibilities on the ship and that Gustav trusted him enough to let him help out.

Eret slid down the tarp and leaned over, peering underneath. “Could be the heat--you should take your vest off. And your shirt,” she suggested helpfully. Nuffink snorted quietly, eyes shut. It was warm on deck, despite the cool wind and water, and they’d both stashed their fur outerwear in the small cabin below. Bjorn insisted on wearing his bear-skin vest as a point of Jorgenson pride and he probably _would_ feel better if he ditched it, but Eret’s advice was clearly self-serving. 

Bjorn just groaned in response. 

“Hey, Nuff’? Lend me a hand back here!” Gustav called from the stern. Nuffink obligingly rolled over and slid down the tarp, passing Eret and hopping down to the deck. He stretched and then poked his head under the tarp to check on Bjorn, who looked pale but not fatally ill. “Can you get me something to drink while you’re up?” the Jorgenson asked hopefully, squinting up at him.

“Get it yourself,” Nuffink laughed, knowing that he’d bring him water anyway. He wove nimbly around the small cabin that protruded from the hull, steadying himself with the lines that anchored the sails to the belaying pins as he made his way to the back of the small schooner.

The shipbuilder was shielding his eye with one hand, squinting at the clouds. In the other he held his compass, which he glanced down at. “We need to adjust the mainsail,” he announced. “We’re a few degrees off course.” 

Nuffink nodded and Gustav slipped the compass into a pocket within his sash-like belt. He directed Nuffink on which lines to untie, and together they trimmed the sails. Though he was no Jorgenson, Nuffink usually considered himself a fairly strong viking, but it took all of his strength to work the lines--his arms and back were aching from days of hoisting the woolen and leather sails. When they were done, he deftly secured the lines on the belaying pins.

“Only a few hours now,” Gustav said, sauntering back to the bench at the stern as the deck tilted slightly, the boat turning a few degrees northward. “Hopefully that little storm didn’t set us back too far.” A twinge of doubt seeped into his voice and he retrieved the compass from his pocket and flipped it open, watching the needle turn with the ship. 

Nuffink had more difficulty keeping his balance as he wobbled after him and plopped down on the low bench, causing the older man to laugh. Nuffink grinned with him, knowing he’d have his sea legs soon enough. Gustav snapped the compass shut and the design of the lid caught Nuffink’s attention. “What is that?” he asked, leaning forward.

“What, this?” The shipbuilder held up the compass. “Oh, you meant the engraving. Here,” he passed the compass over. It was bronze and about the size of Nuffink’s palm. He studied the lid carefully and suddenly realized that the coiled shape was a dragon. It had distinct, double-pronged horns and appeared to have fire snorting from its nose. “A monstrous nightmare?” 

Gustav whistled. “You know your dragons.” 

Nuffink squinted at it one more time and then handed the compass back, satisfied that it was just an interesting engraving. He retrieved the scraps of rope that he’d been using for practice from where they were coiled under the bench and got to work tying a knot that Gustav had just demonstrated earlier that morning.

“I had one you know,” the older viking said, and Nuffink glanced up in confusion as Gustav tucked the compass away safely. He patted the spot where the compass was hidden.

Nuffink’s eyes widened and he abandoned the knot. “A nightmare? You were a dragon rider?” He knew that there were other dragon riders besides his parents and their friends--even Stoick the Vast had a rumblehorn, which had become Eret’s father’s dragon when the chief passed--but Gustav had never mentioned it. It seemed like boats had been his whole life.

Gustav grinned. “I sure was. I tamed him myself. Everyone else got Hiccup’s help, but not me. I found him in the woods and trained him all alone. And he was a beauty--all golden and violet, like the fiercest sunset you’ve ever seen...” He paused for a moment, gaze wandering to the horizon over Nuffink’s shoulder. It was an expression he recognized well--all the dragon riders wore it the same. In between the stomach-clutching stories of shenanigans and tales of proud conquests, there were quiet moments of memory. “He was my best friend.” 

“I thought you were always a sailor,” Nuffink admitted, and Gustav cast off his daze, looking slightly surprised.

“I really can’t believe nobody ever talks about me--well, I actually can, but,” he shook his head and settled back, pulling his arms up to rest his elbows on the railing that was level with his shoulders. “I didn’t pick up sailing until after the dragons left. I sailed around the archipelago for a few years--had lots of adventures and lost an eye, but I didn’t quite find what I was looking for, so I headed back home. I was always stopping in ports to patch up my little boat--just a lousy secondhand knarr I’d borrowed from Dagur, nothing like this beast,” Gustav gestured outward at the ship around them. “And there was a demand for ships, with dragons not being an option anymore. So I settled into shipbuilding, just for the Berserkers at first, but then for the whole archipelago--bigger, smaller, faster, sturdier, I’ve made something for everyone. But I save the very best for the Berserkers’ armada.” He winked, then reached over the railing and smacked the _Chicken_’s hull. “This beauty is my personal favorite, though. Did you know she can sail up rivers?”

Nuffink shook his head slightly, dumbstruck with admiration, and the older man laughed. “Come on,” he said, reaching over to ruffle Nuffink’s hair. “I may be a former dragon rider and world-famous shipbuilder, but I’m still me.”

The younger viking broke into a grin and batted his hand away. “What was it like? When you started building ships, I mean,” he asked when he’d ducked out of Gustav’s reach. 

“Oh, man,” Gustav settled back, a light in his eye. “I was so scared--I was the littlest dude in the Berserker shipyard! I mean, I still _am_.”

Nuffink snorted and Gustav continued. “The shipyard is huge, three or four times the size of yours, with these big vaulted storage halls, and now I’m the boss of it all,” he boasted, folding his arms behind his head. “You should visit, you know. You’d love it--I could even teach you a thing or two…” 

Nuffink’s eyes lit up. “Really? I mean--if my dad would let me,” he looked down, remembering his father’s reaction at the shipyard on Berk.

Gustav dropped his arms and leaned forward. “Listen, I know you didn’t get to finish working on the _Eurus_, but you’ve got real talent--and more importantly, potential. You can’t squander that. You have to fight for it, whatever your dad says.” 

Nuffink glanced up, brows knitted together. He opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by Eret hollering from the front of the schooner about Bjorn’s slow death by dehydration. Gustav glanced toward the bow in alarm, but Nuffink shook his head.

“I better go handle that,” he muttered.

“Hey,” Gustav reached out and tapped his chin. “Chin up, Nuff. Think about what I said.”

Nuffink grinned slightly and then dodged and stood up as Gustav tried to ruffle his hair again. He turned around after a few steps, struck by curiosity. “What was your dragon’s name?” 

The older viking propped one elbow up and tilted his head. “His name is Fanghook.”

The corners of Nuffink’s mouth quirked upward. “Fanghook, like… Hookfang?” He was well acquainted with stories of Snotlout’s ferocious red nightmare. 

The shipbuilder winced, the slightest pink tingeing his ears. “Okay, come on now, I named him when I was thirteen,” he said sheepishly, and Nuffink snickered, turning back towards the bow as Eret began yelling again.  
\--

When they arrived at the Northern Markets around noon, one look at the harbor confirmed what Gustav had warned may happen after the rough waters the day before, which had left them constantly battling the choppy wind to stay on course--the _Eurus_ wasn’t there. 

They docked anyway, and after the teen’s initial baffled reactions at the size of the island--_are all islands this… short?_\--the shipbuilder went ashore to check whether the other ship had been there at all. Nuffink, Eret and Bjorn were left to watch the ship, much to their annoyance, but Gustav assured them he’d be quick. The sun bore down on them from above, and without the constant seaspray the tarp became unbearably hot. Instead, Eret and Bjorn lounged atop the cabin, which was shaded by the folded up sails. Nuffink endured the sun, clambering up the dragon-headed prow to watch for Gustav. 

After an hour perched on the bow, Nuffink spotted the one-eyed viking making his way down to the docks. 

“Well?” he asked as Gustav boarded the _Chicken_. “Were they here?”

Gustav nodded grimly. “I checked around--they were here last night, left around sunset.” 

Eret groaned loudly from her place with Bjorn atop the cabin. “Seriously? We come all this way and they beat us here by a whole NIGHT?” She threw her hands in the air. “What was even the point?”

Nuffink shook his head and jumped from the tarp, landing in front of Gustav. “No way, we can’t give up!” he pleaded. 

“Calm down, guys,” Gustav raised his hands up defensively. “I don’t think we should turn back either.”

All three younger vikings looked at him with surprise. “Really?” Nuffink asked disbelievingly. 

Gustav glanced back toward the markets with eyebrows furrowed. “The hunters have left already--my Berserker contact told me.” He looked back to Nuffink. “They left after the _Eurus_. I don’t know if Baldur paid them,” he added when Nuffink opened his mouth to protest, “But they followed them either way.”

“We have to go, then,” Nuffink scowled. He turned to face the others. “Do you agree?”

Eret rolled her eyes and slipped off the cabin. “I mean, do I _want to_ live on this boat forever? No. But I can deal with it.” He nodded and looked to Bjorn, who raised his eyebrows.

“Do you even have to ask? They’re my family, too,” the Jorgenson affirmed, despite his seasickness. Nuffink smiled gratefully at them both. 

“Well, that settles it,” Gustav announced. “We’re off to Dragon’s Edge. Let’s get out of here,” he gestured for Bjorn to unmoor the _Chicken_. 

Bjorn dutifully complied, while Nuffink and Eret helped Gustav raise the sails. In no time at all they were on the open sea.  
\--

Hours later, Nuffink joined Gustav at the stern, where the shipbuilder was gazing out at the horizon. Dark clouds had blown in, and the water was growing choppy. 

“Another storm?” Nuffink asked, settling himself down with a bowl of porridge. Bjorn and Eret were hunkered down in the cabin, eating their way through the dried meats. 

“Mmm,” Gustav hummed in agreement. “A real one, not like the other day,” he grimaced, turning away from the horizon to sit down. “Even with the _Chicken_, we’re gonna lose some time. I know it’s not ideal, but we might hunker down on land until it passes.”

Nuffink frowned into his bowl, but didn’t protest.

Gustav propped his elbows up and leaned his head back against the railing, closing his eye to enjoy the brisk breeze, even as it warned of danger. “Say, Nuff,” he began. “How much do you know about the Hidden World?” 

Nuffink glanced up, brows drawing together. “The wha-?” he asked, muffled by a mouth full of porridge.

The shipbuilder cracked open his eye, peering curiously at the younger viking. “Nobody’s ever mentioned it?”

He shook his head, confused. “What’s the Hidden World?” he asked. 

Gustav sighed, eye falling shut again. “Should’ve known good ol’ Hiccup wouldn’t tell his own kids… Where did he tell you the dragons went when they left?”

“They crawled back into the sea, leaving not a bone nor a fang for men to remember them by,” Nuffink recited from memory, which caused the older viking’s lips to twitch into a small smile.

“That’s half the story,” he said. “They didn’t dive into the water, though. They went to the Hidden World--some sort of cavern in the ocean. Legend says if you sail too close, you’ll fall right off the world.” 

Nuffink leaned forward. “Does my dad know? How do you?” 

“Oh, Hiccup knows. He’s been there.” 

Nuffink gaped. “He’s _been there_?”

“Your mother too.” Gustav opened his eye and sat up, smirking wryly at Nuffink’s shocked expression. “Of course, they won’t tell anyone where it is. Not the other dragon riders, definitely not me--believe me, I’ve asked. ”

“Figures,” Nuffink grumbled, slumping back. The sky lit up as lightning crackled through the dark clouds, and both vikings looked up as the sails began to snap about in the wind. Thunder rumbled ominously.

“Not much time now,” Gustav said, pulling out his compass and consulting it briefly. “Help me trim the sails.”

Nuffink left his bowl on the bench and followed Gustav’s directions as they adjusted the sails. Lightning flashed repeatedly overhead and a torrent of rain began to fall, drenching them while they lowered the mainsail. The schooner plunged over a wave, and Nuffink scrambled to grab the lines as he nearly slipped on the treacherous deck. The shipbuilder had to shout to be heard over the howling wind as he directed Nuffink to trim the foresail, which they both fought to adjust in the wind and reeling motion of the ship. The porridge bowl and its contents were quickly lost to the ocean, though neither viking noticed. 

When he’d secured the lines, Nuffink turned back to Gustav, who yelled something from across the small deck. Deafening thunder drowned him out, crackling across the clouds like Thor himself had shattered the sky with a deft strike of Mjolnir. Nuffink stepped away from the lines as Gustav gestured toward the cabin. 

“I want to stay up here and help!” he shouted, straining to be heard over the storm. The ship lurched without warning and Nuffink was pitched backwards. His back slammed painfully into the railing as the ship keeled sideways and for a moment his boots lost contact with the deck as momentum threatened to toss him overboard. He braced himself for the icy waters. 

A strong grip on his tunic yanked him forward, and Nuffink opened his eyes--which he hadn’t realized he’d screwed shut--as Gustav wrapped an arm around his shoulder, grounding him to the deck as the ship rocked back.

“Inside you go!” the shipbuilder shouted into Nuffink’s ear, steering him toward the cabin stairs. 

Nuffink struggled against him. “But I can help!” he yelped. 

Gustav shook his head and laughed as the ship rolled about. “I won’t have you thrown overboard,” he shouted, pushing Nuffink down the short flight of steps, where he collided with Bjorn, who was peering out the door, green in the face. He wheeled around to look up at Gustav, who yelled something else before disappearing towards the bow. 

“Come on!” Bjorn flung his arm across Nuffink’s chest and dragged him backwards into the cabin, where the older boy was shoved off. The cabin was small, with one cot and three makeshift hammocks that Gustav had fashioned. A chest of food preserves set behind them, with the rest of the food stored in the small hold. 

“You let all the rain in!” Eret complained from the cot. “Gods, it’s a waterfall out there.”

“Nuff almost went overboard!” Bjorn told her as Nuffink shook his hair out like a dog, droplets flying everywhere. “He could have died!”

Eret raised her hands to shield herself from the droplets, then reached up and pulled the blanket from his hammock. “Was it really that bad?” she asked, waiting for Nuffink to pull his soaking tunic off before she tossed him the blanket. 

He caught and dried his face. “Sort of,” he admitted, the blanket muffling his voice and hiding his flushed cheeks. He was deeply embarrassed at having to be rescued by Gustav and sent below deck, but he was also slightly relieved--the storm was torrential. 

“Welcome to the club,” Eret said, patting the cot beside her. 

Bjorn clambered into the hammock across from her, the tossing of the ship dumping him into it ungracefully. He groaned, nauseous. “What do we do now?”

“Now we wait,” Nuffink said, kicking off his waterlogged boots. He stripped off his soggy trousers, unashamed of undressing in front of Eret--she’d already seen the worst of it, after all. Then he wrapped the blanket around his shoulders like a cloak and crawled onto her cot. 

She offered him jerky from the chest, but he turned it down. “I’m worried about Gustav.” 

Eret shrugged. “He’s the expert. He did this by himself for like, years, right?”

“If anyone can do it, it’s him,” Bjorn added from his hammock. 

Nuffink nodded, his eyebrows still furrowed. The shipbuilder may have been a seasoned sailor, but that didn’t decrease the ferocity of the storm. But, Nuffink reminded himself, he would probably be more of a hindrance than a help above deck. Gustav had already saved him once. The shipbuilder wasn’t trying to exclude him, just keep him safe.

“He’ll be fine,” Eret insisted, draping her arm over his blanketed shoulders in a rare display of affection. Nuffink nodded again and slumped into Eret. The adrenaline rush from the excitement of the storm had worn off, and his spine ached from where he’d hit the railing. Exhaustion overcame Nuffink and he rested his head against her shoulder, eyes drifting shut. The rumbling thunder drowned out whatever other anxious thoughts he had, and in no time at all he was lulled to sleep by the rocking of the ship.  
\--


End file.
